


Glory To Cardassia Part 3 - Initiations

by InikiMelset



Series: Glory To Cardassia - Part 1 [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 15:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21211184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InikiMelset/pseuds/InikiMelset
Summary: At being promoted to Glinn 3rd Level, Melset is transferred to Gul Dukat's cruiser, makes interesting experiences on board, in battle, first negotiations, as well as interesting contact with the Obsidian Order.





	Glory To Cardassia Part 3 - Initiations

The past few months had seen the Glinns as well as vars and recruits at diverse postings. Half a year at the Academy, half a year serving under various commanders weeded out those who were slow to adapt to their new commanders. The usual ritual was for the newcomers to give their datapadds to their immediate superiors; their performance ratings, new qualifications and general performance were entered in the central computer then, at the end of their tour of duty, they were given their pads to read before countersigning them. This method ensured the Guls had all of the information needed about their personnel.

After 18 months, the notification from Central Command’s Department of Education came in as expected. Gul Jorad immediately called her into his ready room. “Glinn Melset, I have been notified that you are recalled to the Academy for courses prior to taking exams for promotion to Glinn Third Level. The Planzet will be meeting us in five hours, you can transfer to Cardassia Prime without delay.”

Glinn Melset waited, standing at attention, for Gul Jorad to return her padd, the official sign of termination.

The gul rose and gave Melset the padd containing her data. For a moment he met her eyes, then said, “Succeed, Glinn Melset.”

With that, duties at this posting ended. She saluted and left, well knowing her year of Order training had disquieted him in spite of her other commanders’ commendations as only very few militaries selected this area of education; Gul Jorad had concealed his distrust during her time aboard his cruiser, but it was obvious he was relieved the agent as he had called her, was to leave his ship.

While she was packing, her cabin mate came in. The glinn watched her curiously for some minutes, then inquired, “A transfer? To whom have you been assigned?”

“This is no reassignment, Glinn Marik. My recall to the Academy for further courses and interrogations came in this morning.” She packed the last articles.

“After but eighteen months? How did you do that?” he asked, surprised then, realising that his query could be misunderstood, added, “Glinn Melset, I meant no offense!”

“None taken, Glinn Marik. This is due to my results during training, studies with the Order, courses I have organized for fellow officers.” She sat down on her bunk, undid her armour and stretched when she laid it aside. “Glinn Marik, you have been here for over two years, so your own recall should come in soon.”

“It will be my second and last attempt. I have to succeed when I retake it, thus have opted to present myself for the exams the session after.”

Melset briefly hesitated; Glinn Marik had become nearly a friend; together, they had guarded each other’s backs in the trenches, supported each other in seemingly hopeless situations, and often beamed down together for shore leave as they shared similar interests. No, he was an ally and would be a grateful member of her rapidly expanding network …

“Before I leave, there is something I wish to give you.”

The other glinn looked over at her.

She briefly met his eyes before going to her locker to gather up a handful of data rods and said, not quite sure how he would react as this was a sensitive subject, “These are yours, Glinn Marik, in exchange for past assistance. I have my own copies with the exact same data: useful information on strategies, mission reports, analyses of same, technology, troop leadership, with comments and evaluations. This is permitted, you know.” She held them out to him.

The Glinn took them, momentarily at a loss for words, surprised at the generosity of the gesture; he rose to carefully place them into his own locker, “Glinn Melset, if I succeed, I owe you not one, but as many favours as you have given me rods.”

**********

At arriving in the Registration Bureau at the Military Academy to pick up her padds and security codes, she saw that Glinns from all over the Union had been recalled for this series of examinations. She quickly, surreptitiously, looked whether Glinn Kovar, her close friend and future fiancé, was present; they had not seen each other for months as they had been posted on different destroyers and only been permitted to exchange some few short messages. As far as she knew, he was also registered for this next phase of training. Although their days would be filled with exams and interrogations, there was always a possibility of finding some moments in between for a few words, a quick glance.  
“Report to main hall for assignment of quarters.”

The lists were already established so that the Glinns were free to unpack and get their bearings within minutes. Six to a room, mixed accommodations in accordance with Cardassian military norms. Dormitories were austere but serviceable, offering everyone sufficient place for work and rest.

A stocky young officer came in and briefly, evaluatingly, looked at his room mates before introducing himself, “I am your group leader, Glinn Derasi: You are Melset, Nabros, Budren, Joldek and Ceryl?” He met their eyes in turn.

After that, the Glinns dropped the formalities and began discussing their previous postings, their experiences and their superiors; outwardly they acted no differently to Starfleet personnel, but there was an undercurrent of unremitting rivalry in spite of being expected to cooperate whenever necessary. The courses would start in the late afternoon, giving them enough time to get acquainted.

All the candidates knew these exams would be far more rigorous as Glinn Third Level was a relatively high rank with a marked increase in responsibility; the rank of Gul was the next step in the hierarchy; in fact, a Glinn 3rd level had to take over command if his Gul was killed or incapacitated.

For now, they were facing two months of compressed courses that would demand unceasing work, both individually and in groups for them to cope with demands.

When she input her code in her communit, Melset found a message waiting for her. It was audio only, consisted of one sentence. “Iníki, you are invited; you have but to accept.”  
To herself, she said, “Thank you, Tain, perhaps I shall, someday ….” After passing her exams at the end of her year of Order training, she had been repeatedly contacted to inquire whether she would be interested in transferring to the Order. It was very tempting indeed, all the possibilities offered …. Melset pensively returned to her area and put away the few things she needed. Tain’s frequently reiterated invitations did not disturb her as he had taken an interest in her work from childhood on up, often visited her family.

The exams following the intensive courses took over a month, consisted of three weeks of interrogations on all areas of administration, security protocols, organization, leadership, weapons and general technology and strategy, navigation, followed by one week of rigorous physical evaluations which meant days of hours-long combat simulations, hand-to-hand combat drill at unexpected times, under all conditions they could possibly encounter, in all forms of dress, and finally, a series of endurance tests which came at the end of the entire series, each of these tests followed by a medical exam.

The final test was dreaded by all: transporting a pack of equipment weighing 65 kilograms over unmarked terrain for a stretch of at least 20 kilometres within an arbitrarily determined time, in spite of simulated attacks and obstacles, setting up the weaponry within a set time, repacking, finally returning to the Academy via a different route. No one knew how long his or her stretch would be. The command to stop came via communicator, so there was no way of managing one’s strength. While shouldering her pack, Melset considered the first obstacle: a wall nearly three metres high. That wall was not totally sheer, however, offering some rough spots of which she could make use, as well as a hint of a crack just below the rim, and, even better, roughly two metres before that wall, she discovered a small hump which she could use to get impetus.

“Initiated!” She ran to the hump, leapt onto it and up against the wall with a running jump, pushing off hard against the surface at just the angle required to gain additional height and get her hands on the edge. Arching her back, the Glinn pushed off again with a massive effort, got her legs over the top then let herself drop. She landed on her feet on the other side to begin the 100 metres timed run.

A flash of light just at the very edge of visual range had her hit the dust, crawl over and under various obstacles, squirming under a low passage, pushing the load ahead, respectively dragging it after her. Everything had to be done with a minimum of sound. Silence during combat or reconnaissance missions was critical, and Cardassians were skilled at moving virtually noiselessly in most areas. In cooperation with her mentor, Kalem, Melset had begun developing a system of barely noticeable gestures that could convey the most important details; it would be useful later. For now, other things were more important.

“Begin!”

On command, Melset set off at a trot, orienting herself in the half-darkness of early morning by sensing the radiation and the direction of the faint light with the nerve endings concentrated in the slightly concave surface of her central scale. _At least ten kilometres one way. I’ve done far more and under incomparably worse conditions in the past_… She kept up a steady pace until the command came. “Halt!”

There was no need to look around for potential shelter as she had automatically registered details of her surroundings during the run, recognized and analysed the possibilities offered by cover that would permit her to see but not to be seen. Quickly unfastening and laying down the pack, she set up the equipment; suddenly, a slight rustling alerted the Glinn. Reaching for the phaser rifle slung over her shoulder, she hit the ground, crawled to a place which offered her an unobstructed view of the terrain to find the source of the sound. At seeing a slight movement to her left, Melset activated her phaser and shouted, “I have you covered! Drop weapons, on your knees, legs apart, hands on your head. No rapid movements!”

The person adopted the posture demanded then, slowly, turned towards her voice, looked around before calling, “At ease, Glinn Melset!” She had hidden too well for her quarry to spot her.

There was no reaction, only silence; she repeated the command, followed it with the release of the safety, the hum of the “ready” signal.

“Code J-P-OXZ – red.” The officer was who he claimed to be, so the Glinn jumped to her feet to walk over to her station.

The interrogator, Gul Franios, looked at her before inspecting the equipment in detail, its condition, the set-up, and commented, “Off the record, Glinn. Well done.”  
She remained standing at attention to receive his next order, “Return.”

Within minutes, the procedure was reversed, and she on her way. Half-way back, a civilian glider matched its pace to hers. “Glinn, I have a son in the service. For his sake, I offer you a short lift to win you some time.”

She looked to the side; the speaker was a civilian, an older female she did not know, but who seemed friendly. Melset shook her head and gave her a brief wave and nod to acknowledge the offer. _The oldest trick in the book. Never accept unsolicited aid from strangers in battle or field training, Cardassians or no: it could be a trap. Never leave your equipment out of sight for even a second or you may find it being used against you._ Towards the end of an endurance test such an offer was tempting, but could be disastrous if indulged in real time. This person could be an observer sent to check on progress as well as the candidates’ obeying the rules of the last endurance test; to accept would mean failing the entire interrogation and being derided as incapable of defending Cardassia.

After eight hours, the final phase of the exams ended when she arrived at the Academy’s grounds to set up her equipment and stand at attention. Melset could not quite conceal accelerated breathing; she had not once stopped for a break.

The interrogator inspected the equipment, then input the results into a padd before stating, “At ease, Glinn Melset, Dismissed. Notification of results at 10:00 tomorrow.” With a slight smile, he added, “Some downtime would be in order.”

_Accept praise or criticism with equanimity. They given when deserved; the one to encourage, the other to correct._ She did not react to the approval, only saluted, did a perfectly executed about–face and left for quarters as though the exertions of the past days had been routine; to show any signs of the sustained efforts of the past weeks? Inconceivable. Anyone who did was judged weak, without resolve and lost points off ratings. In combat, endurance combined with mental resilience were essential; a weak link in the team could endanger the whole.

In the dormitory which she shared with five other Glinns, one of whom had departed a week ago, she took off her armour and uniform to indulge in the pleasure of a vigorous rubdown with a cloth first soaked in warm oil, then wrung out. The Cardassian appreciated this simple luxury after the exertions, yet the final interrogation was nothing compared to what was expected on duty, what she had already experienced during the past seven years.

_Eight hours … combat takes days, even weeks … Filthy trenches, basic rations, hardly any rest, no privacy worth mentioning, often climatic conditions nearly unbearable for us, but everything is worth enduring in service to the Union._ After redressing, she sat down, then, luxuriating in the feeling, let herself fall onto her bunk with a low sigh of pleasure; the very act of lying on that bunk felt good. _My comrades should be back soon as well_… Three Varagasi, one Kelani, one Gerschechi and a South Continent Cardassian was a volatile combination, but at their level ethnic differences did not matter. They were all Cardassians, yet the reputation of Kelani for highly conservative values provoked jokes comparable to those about the Bajoran kava farmer, the Klingon Ketta Lowlands population on their respective worlds.

Glinns Derasi, Budren, Joldek and Nabros returned about half an hour later, “Ah, you are back already, Glinn Melset.” With a sigh, one of them collapsed onto his bunk, “The last of those four interrogations was incredible.”

“It was an endurance test, or did your interrogator trot along beside you to see if you are as voluble while running as you are otherwise?” Nabros said, grinning.

Joldek stated with a laugh, “No, luckily not. But it seemed like an interrogation: all my muscles are complaining. And yet, in the field, I have experienced worse!”

The others nodded in silent agreement; some factor or another made these endurance tests more strenuous than normal combat situations. Melset strongly suspected that the meal candidates had hours before reporting to the tests contained a drug, but kept this suspicion to herself.

The officers did not comment on the academic part of the exams, nor on the physical demands; all looked as though they had experienced an especially gruelling session of endurance training. If they had been incapable of coping with all of the demands of military life they would already have been discharged as potential risks to military readiness.  
After the last Glinn had arrived, Derasi looked at his comrades in mock exasperation as they lay on their bunks or slumped on their chairs; true to military ways, every moment of downtime that came up was often used to get some rest between periods of exertion.

“Ah, don’t fall asleep quite yet! We are to report to the mess hall in an hour, in full uniform, or appear incapable of pulling our weight, as weak as humans or Bajorans. Look at yourselves: a disgrace to Cardassia!” With a mocking smirk, he stood at attention, ignoring the irritated muttering of his comrades, “Formation march! Next test: survival of sonics. Attack at once! Take no prisoners!”

His order raised some laughter and dubious gestures, but was promptly obeyed; the sonics massaged the tension and soreness out of their muscles so that, once back in uniform, refreshed and relaxed, the Glinns’ mood had lightened markedly.

“Section D-24, proceed to mess hall.”

Students and militaries who were taking their exams were kept separate from regular students and from those taking lower-level exams. This was no precaution to preclude an exchange of information as there were enough options at the disposal of the interrogators, but rather to ensure undivided attention to demands.

The five Glinns covertly looked around upon entering the mess hall, exchanged glances. Some of the tables assigned their rank were empty, a few occupied by one, two or three candidates. There were no discussions, only silence, nor did anyone join a comrade who was not of his group. After receiving their rations, more generous than those of the past weeks, they sat down to eat, and soon were absorbed in a sporadic discussion of strategies, of developments along the border, and the odds of being assigned to a given cruiser. Every Gul had his supporters among the students at the Academy, especially as all Glinns had served under at least five different commanders in the course of their careers. Frequent transferrals were necessary to further flexibility, ensure immediate recognition of a superior’s methods and the ability to anticipate orders which guaranteed smooth operations in crises. Only at becoming a commander in his or her own right did the privilege of decision-making enter into a junior officer’s area of competence. A Glinn 3rd level had the prerogative of suggesting strategies after the first six weeks of observing procedure on board but only after having proven him- or herself. If the strategy failed, decision-making privileges were revoked, an entry made into his or her files, accompanied by the Glinn’s own detailed analysis of the failure. In the fleet itself, the Gul of highest level had the final say after analysing the input from the others in his fleet.

Guls systematically honed the abilities of their Glinns from Second Level onwards by assigning them groups of Vars and Recruits to lead into combat, troops for whose training they were responsible. That, however, was the limit of their command authority unless the Gul commanding the cruiser was exceedingly tolerant.

“Clear mess hall. Dismissed.” As one, the Glinns rose, disposed of their trays in the cleaning units before filing out.

This command meant that they now could do whatever they wanted, even go off-base until lights-out, but Derasi and his fellow Glinns headed towards their quarters to sleep off the exertions of the past weeks, a luxury in itself. There was downtime on a cruiser, but anyone could be ordered to replace another officer at a minute’s notice. As a result, many active duty personnel had adopted the habit of sleeping in uniform so that they only had to put on the armour before reporting to their post. Their respective areas in the rooms of the Academy’s dormitory complex were separated by weighted curtains for privacy like on a cruiser; furnishings consisted of a bunk, a locker and a chest, at the other end of the room, communits and computer annexes.

A low whisper that was meant to be heard came from Glinn Joldek’s compartment, “After all these interrogations, I think a nice Kelani Cardassian would make such a comforting companion.”

There was no verbal reaction from Melset’s area, only a protracted, malevolent hiss with an undertone of derision. There was always some joking to relieve tension and she enjoyed it as much as the others.

Nabros commented, suppressing laughter, “Did you hear that? Give up, Joldek. You’ve been shot down each time; our ranks may have changed, but not some people’s ways. They’re said to be hot-blooded, those Kelani females, but as standoffish as Romulans.”

A laugh from Derasi, “No chance at all, Melset? You’ve heard Joldek, he likes Kelani. He is an admirable strategist, too. Pull back, regroup, attack from another sector.”

Her retort was prompt. “If he wants to spend the night manacled, with the floor as his mattress, he’s welcome to try for some companionship.” She waited for a moment. “How about planning another series of tests just for him, Glinn Nabros: undercover operations. The Order is always looking for highly-motivated candidates and am sure Joldek would make an excellent recruit.”

The very thought made the others uneasy. “Never,” Joldek said, feeling his way very carefully to avoid any phrasing that could be seen as critical of the Obsidian Order of which it was said it heard and saw everything that happened on Cardassia. “I want to find a good Cardassi woman, have a family and serve Cardassia on both fronts. Order operatives are obliged to make far more sacrifices for the common good than anyone else, and not all of us are suited to make them. I know I am not.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the others. Duty, Family, Cardassia were the most important elements for their people. They transcended differences in custom, could even defuse conflicts. The deadliest enemy was the one whose family was harmed by a fellow Cardassian or an offworlder; that was unforgivable. Help was never forgotten either, with gratitude transcending heritage. No family ties … for their people, it was the greatest sacrifice imaginable. For that reason, Order members often mentored promising candidates as this offered them the semblance of a family.

After some moments of silence Derasi said, “Glinn Melset, I have heard you attended courses with the Order.”

Her answer was honest. “Yes, and it was most interesting. The agents I have met are all good Cardassians, dedicated to the Union. They say all of us can support the Union as well, whether as civilians, or as militaries, or, for a female, in bearing and raising good Cardassian citizens. If I am offered the chance of becoming a liaison officer after active duty, I will not have to forego having a family of my own.”

Renewed silence, then a low murmur from Joldek’s cubicle, “… and raise our children to be true Cardassians who will serve the greater glory of Cardassia in turn.” His voice reflected pride and hope. “We have to choose our priorities carefully.”

“For now, I’ll serve my own interests and priorities. Sleep!” called Budren.

The comments and counter comments, now reduced to whispers, went on a little while longer before they too faded into silence.

For all the joking and insinuations, intimate relationships among students and students who were completing their studies at the Academy were prohibited. The higher ranks already had fiancés or were married, those who didn’t adhered to regulations. The goal was for personnel to become soldiers and officers of the Cardassian Union, strong, prepared to make even the most wrenching sacrifices, determined to further Cardassia’s interests at all costs… Indulgence of any kind was seen as a sign of weakness; especially at times of physical closeness or even during celebrations with generous amounts of food and drink, more than one officer had become too talkative, with direst consequences. Such cases were publicised, the officers exposed to public censure, then dishonourably discharged. They were high-risk factors for Cardassia’s security and relegated to non-essential areas of work.

Downtime as such was virtually non-existent; from lights-out to reveille, seven hours at most, were meant for rest and recreation. These hours were subject to unexpected shifts, ensuring the candidates’ flexibility under shipboard conditions.

Melset still lay awake for some time, staring up at the ceiling; she knew that the year of Order training listed on her personnel data padd inevitably raised questions, yet, her superior officers welcomed her skills. Each Gul under whom she had served so far had assigned her duties which had furthered her abilities. She settled down, thinking, _just another element to be dealt with_.

When they were called to receive their results the next morning, Melset quickly glanced around the hall: the group of candidates had become much smaller, by at least two thirds. Seemingly the physical exams had weeded out even more individuals. Seventy-two of 250 had passed the tests. Just the day before, one of her four remaining room mates had packed and left. He would no doubt return to his posting for another two years as Glinn second level, then retake the exams; there was no disgrace in that, but if he failed again, there would be no more possibility of advancement within the service; administration was the remaining option. There were only very few openings for higher positions within Central Command, thus the merciless selection that made no allowances for any weakness, the same as combat made no allowances for errors in strategy or reactions. Only the very best were destined to lead.

In contrast to Federation graduates, the Cardassians waited silently, ranks of Glinns in full uniform standing at attention, ready for service. Relatives were not authorized to attend as graduation from the Academy was a strictly internal affair, the success of each graduate solely ascribable to his efforts. If there was any kind of celebration, it would be within the family alone. Most Cardassians, though, thought celebrating success indicated its being unexpected, and presented an opening for doubts as to the individual’s true level of competence.

At the back of the hall, the doors slid open to admit the interrogators who walked along the aisle to line up at the front of the hall. The Supreme Administrator, a Gul First Level, of whom there were but nine in all of Central Command, marched forward, followed by the interrogators who took their seats on the podium, eyes forward.

In spite of the graduate’s discipline, tension rose when a table was beamed in with their padds arranged according to rank and area of duty. The results were registered on them, complete with evaluations, achievements, experience in command and leadership… all important information for the Guls to whom these officers would be assigned.

Melset was called up within moments, was given her padd which she accepted with a salute and the call of “Talsvar Kardassu.” Marching back to her place, she covertly glanced around; Glinn Kovar was there … then she quickly glanced at the padd: sixth in rank. She suppressed momentary disappointment, 6 of 72 was excellent, considering the demands.

A speech followed, then they were authorized to activate their pads for information on their postings. This, too, was effected in silence, with only the sound of a muted intake of breath or a triumphant hiss when a hoped-for posting had materialized.

With pleased surprise, Melset saw she was assigned to the Orissà under the command of Gul Dukat. There was no vocal or physical indication of satisfaction at the news as the Glinn deactivated her padd. Those Glinns 3rd level serving on the same ship would depart together after having the chance to notify their families.

The Gul in charge informed the Glinns on when to report for duty. Finally, her posting was mentioned. “Orissà personnel, report to the Likura at 4 hours standard time tomorrow. Dismissed.”

Melset was one of a group of five; she stared at Glinn Kovar disbelievingly when he joined them and went to stand next to him, overjoyed at this unexpected development. They had frequently cooperated, been posted together twice; he was a standard Cardassian of Gerschechi stock, tall, slender, with pale grey eyes and fine features. After some conflicts in the beginning followed by the arguments which were a part of Cardassian courtship, they realized that they had much in common and spent shore leave and downtime together in the company of their peers. Finally, they had notified their families who had agreed and applied for permission to make their commitment after receiving their promotions to Glinn 3rd level. There was a waiting period during which their respective family histories would be checked by the Order.

His hand brushed against hers as though by chance, and he whispered, “This is fortunate, Iníki. I thought we would be posted in different areas of the Union.”

“I didn’t expect both of us to serve on the Orissa.” She smiled very slightly, and risked touching his hand in turn, in spite of constant observation.

Melset knew that there would hardly be any other Kelani serving with her, but this was irrelevant. A member of personnel’s ethnicity made no difference. What counted were the Cardassian virtues of perseverance, dedication, hard work and determination. Her detractors had soon learned that she was as Cardassian as everyone else concerning her viciousness if challenged.

At the Military Academy, conflicting parties had to resolve their differences on their own. Anyone who requested a mediator was considered contemptible and weak. Melset had never considered this option, vastly preferring effective and quick retaliation, there were no witnesses, but the target knew exactly why the attack or sabotage had occurred. Afterwards, the matter was considered closed and the former opponents openly cooperated.

The administrator called out: “Speak the Pledge and never forget it as long as you are in the service of the Empire, as long as you live.”

The hall resounded with the voices of the Glinns who called out the three stanzas with firm voices, each word pronounced separately, the rhythm like an immense heartbeat. The last words were followed by the salute and “Talsvar Kardassu!”

“Remember this Pledge always, bring honour to our people, to your families and leaders and always be prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. We are Cardassians, destined to rule the Alpha Quadrant if you do not cede. Dismissed!”

In formation, they returned to quarters where they put on the armour of Glinn 3rd level, clipped the insignia of rank on their left sleeve, took their duffels and departed the Academy for good, everyone to his or her home or to the communications centre prior to departing for their respective assignments.

This time, wanting time to think, she walked part of the way home before taking the public transport system’s shuttle service. Deep in thought, she overlooked the glances she got, curious, or with quickly averted eyes. That posting she was assigned was one of the most coveted. Gul Dukat was known as a gifted strategist, a deeply patriotic officer who furthered those under his command, expecting them to be dedicated to serving Cardassia no matter what the price. From what she had heard, he was just in his decisions. In one case, a Var she had met during her last posting had told her of his insisting a Glinn 1st Level be given the chance to redeem himself after making a nearly disastrous error, although he could have had him court-martialled and given a dishonourable discharge. This officer never forgot Dukat’s generosity and, wanting to prove himself, was now one of the most promising candidates for promotion.

Losir Damar was already waiting for her when she arrived at home; he had some hours off while his ship was being repaired after Ghemor’s fleet had fought against an overly curious and stubborn set of Starfleet captains. No ships had been lost on either side, the skirmish had served as a warning only.

“Gul Damar,” she saluted him. In uniform he was her superior and expected the formality.

His response was “At ease, Glinn Melset,” before inquiring, “Which rank did you attain and what is your posting?”

“Rank six, my posting is on the Orissà, under the command of Gul Dukat,” she handed her father the padd. “I am to report to the Likura at 4:00 standard tomorrow.”

  
Losir quickly read the evaluations, his expression neutral. “Tain will be gratified when he reads these details; he takes great interest in your career and has already inquired about you. As far as I know, he has already sent you a message.”

Melset nodded. She liked Tain as well as the operative he was presently mentoring; in spite of his crowded schedule, he had frequently taken the time to demonstrate some detail or another, such as how to modify carrier waves or disguise surveillance devices, reroute signals, or challenged her to get her signals past him. _The only ones who fear the Order are the guilty._ Both she and Tain agreed on that point. “He suggests I consider becoming an operative, Attàmi Damar.” She hesitated a moment before admitting, “It is tempting; I have never seen so much information or imagined such postings … Yet, I want to stay with Central Command for a minimum of three decades.”

Losir Damar nodded. “You are on his list of potential candidates. Remember that he has demanded copies of all your evaluations during the past years.” The Cardassian changed the subject, “Attávi Melset and Åvron are due back shortly.”

Together, they went into the main room to discuss the situation on the border, plans for new colonies, the impending expansion of the fleet in response to provocations by the Klingons and the Federation. Melset became pensive; _This development could mean early promotions to Gul for some of us, provided we prove ourselves_. For now, though, it was none of her concern. The standard fifty-five years of service would offer many possibilities of advancement for officers who served well.

Afterwards, they set about preparing dinner; the food was simple but there was enough for all as shortages had ended two years ago after the annexation of four systems along the border. The population still did not have overly much at their disposal, but what they had gave them a sense of well-being; the general population considered itself privileged and wholeheartedly supported the work of Central Command, the Obsidian Order and Detapa.

Delhina and Åvron arrived together; it was a rare privilege for all four of them to be home, in spite of allowances made for families at important occasions. Officers’ families often were separated for four or five years at a time; this life style was hard for family-oriented people like Cardassians, but joining Central Command as active-duty personnel was a consciously made decision, the consequences of this decision known well in advance; anyone who complained became an object of censure. Duty superseded personal desires and, this was an important detail, families of military members were assured of support at all times.

*********

The Orissà was just outside the Cardassian central system when the Likura arrived with the new personnel. They beamed over in a group to be met by one of the Glinns due to transfer off. The newcomers would be assigned various stations until they had made the rounds, after which they would be posted according to their studies. For now, during their first two shifts, they had the option of observing and participating in various duties as required, in decision-making if asked.

Gul Dukat’s adjutant accompanied them to the ready room where their commanding officer was already waiting. Gul Dukat already had the Glinns’ datapadds whose data was now registered on the ship’s main computer.

“Glinn Kovar of Locarian City, rank 11 – navigation, shift II tomorrow.”

“Glinn Jelad of Rodinian City, rank 9 – engineering, shift I, tomorrow.”

“Glinn Melset of Perali City, rank 6, weapons, shift III tomorrow.”

He went through the list, making eye contact with each officer in turn. “For now, there are no foreseeable emergencies, so this time is at your disposal for orientation. On the communits in your quarters you will find the layout of this cruiser together with a compressed form of mission files which you are welcome to read at your discretion. Should you require further information, address Glinn Terpak.”

Gul Dukat turned to his adjutant, “Glinn Terpak, show the new personnel to their quarters and give them their access codes.”

They were assigned rooms on separate decks; newcomers were usually distributed throughout a ship to facilitate integration. After entering her code, Melset went into her cabin and looked around: standard quarters, a living area with a replicator, deactivated but installed, bedroom, sonics … it was austere but serviceable. Glinns second level still shared quarters, so having her own area was a novelty. She unpacked her duffel, looked at a diagram of the ship to find the relevant areas. Everything else would come later, once she had cleared the question of access to all parts of the ship with Security.

At reporting to the bridge of the Orissà the following day Melset noticed the sense of unity and loyalty to the commanding officer, true loyalty, not just that due his rank. She took her place at weapons, checked the displays before adjusting her seat. At some point during her shift, Melset knew there would be a combat simulation, but those were routine on all cruisers; these simulations presented unusual, often critical situations or even no-win situations to gauge reactions and stability of the officers.

When all was completed, she saw to her duties, but found herself wondering about Gul Dukat, who had the reputation of being one of the finest officers in the fleet. Her previous commanders, Guls Previn, Jorad and Jasad, had been vastly different to one another.

Gul Jasad had been her last commander. She had feared him, as had most of the others. He was one of the best strategists, gave his Glinns and Vars an excellent basis as to operations and strategy, but his temper was by far too volatile; even a minor error could mean a massive, often humiliating dressing down in front of the other bridge crew. It was a Gul’s right, there were no rules against this, and it was done only in the most extreme cases. Once, just some days after she had transferred to his cruiser, Melset had witnessed such a scene: a Var just missed being hit by a padd which Jasad had thrown at a Glinn who had disturbed him at the wrong moment, then found himself the target of Jasad’s rage at catching the padd just before it impacted with the communications array…

*******

Conflicts along the border were escalating; for the eighth time in as many days, Gul Dukat’s fleet was alerted. Shift had just changed when the notification came in. The officers going off-duty remained on the bridge in case they were needed.

“Five Federation starships located within the borders of the Colandra system. Scanning planets for resources, not responding to warning hails.” The Gul looking out at them from the screen seemed calm, yet the inflection in his voice and the glitter in his eyes reflected his outrage. “Gul Dukat, you are closest to that area.”

Dukat, angered at the incursion, commanded, “Move to intercept.” To the officers who were still waiting, he said, “This should be over quickly. You have down-time. Make use of it.”

There was but one thought in the minds of the entire crew: One of the planets in that system had recently been colonized by Cardassia to lay a claim on desperately needed resources discovered there. They knew their civilians had nothing to fear: the Federation generously protected even enemy populations. The safety of the colonists was not the problem, but the resources were at risk.

Some hours later the fleet arrived within sensor range and chose a more circuitous path to see what they were up against before they were detected. Two Starships were scanning the first planet of the system as though they had every right to be there…

“Communications.”

Var Laset opened hailing frequencies.

“You are in Cardassian space. Cease operations at once. I am Gul Dukat of the Second Order, and I invite you to leave this area. Your incursion constitutes an act of war.”  
He waited for some minutes, staring at the central screen. It remained blank, nor did an audiomessage come in. The Captain of the lead ship apparently did not consider a Cardassian worth a reply.

“I repeat: depart immediately. We shall otherwise render your ships defenceless, subsequently take you prisoner to answer for this crime.” Gul Dukat’s voice was calm but the threat undeniable.

Finally, an answer. “Captain Fendrichs speaking. We are within Federation territory, scanning this planet prior to colonization. Transmitting claim.”

Dukat’s expression did not change as he read the information that scrolled down his screen. His voice even, he responded, “This is a forgery. On your way here you passed Endok’Nor, an outpost dating back 10 years. It is a quite large station, recognizably Cardassian and, to my knowledge, it has not been shifted from its position, nor is it cloaked. You cannot have failed to see it unless your external sensors were off-line. I have issued an ultimatum; you will comply with my demands or face the consequences.” He leaned back, his blue eyes cold as he stared at the human. “You have ten seconds.”

The image suddenly faded and, simultaneously, the Var at sensors called out, “Phasers fully charged! Shields up on Federation vessel!”

No explicit command from Gul Dukat was necessary; the bridge crew reacted as though they were one organism. Within seconds, all stations were at the ready, personnel waiting to begin the attack, respectively serve as backups in case of injuries, the harsh blare of red alert echoed throughout the quarters and corridors.

Tense silence. Perhaps the human captain wanted to save face with a show of defiance; that was the method used by Klingons or Cardassians. At times it did made opponents back down.

But not this time. The Federation vessels came around in standard battle formation, facing off against the Cardassians. The main screen activated briefly to show the human Captain and his bridge crew. “You want a fight, Gul Dukat? You can have one. We have claimed this system, it is within Federation borders and we will not withdraw.” The image faded.

“Engage!”

The bulky-looking Cardassian cruisers were surprisingly manoeuvrable, and the shuttles deployed when ‘skirmishes’ had to be decided quickly were provided with powerful weaponry, a decisive advantage that could determine the outcome of this encounter.

“Glinn Melset, reroute section 24 of the main weapons station; Var Kailas, take over secondary systems.” He glanced at Melset. “You have trained him to use that method to increase firepower and lower response time.”

_He really does track and evaluate everyone’s work and initiative_… She met Var Kailas’ eyes and inclined her head slightly in encouragement. He was a Var 1st level, very determined, very motivated to serve the Union.

There was a brief lull in the exchange of fire before the Federation captains concentrated on the lead ship, only doing enough to keep the others in Gul Dukat’s fleet busy. A fleet commander would be a fine prize indeed.

The impact of a phaser blast that hit the Orissá was accompanied by a blinding flash of light, but did not breach the hull. _They know that bright light can incapacitate us for seconds_… The ship lurched so heavily that four of the bridge personnel were thrown to the floor, while the others clutched at any support they could find. After the impact, Gul Dukat shouted a series of orders in response to the reports that were coming in from various areas of the cruiser; damage was minimal; evidently, the Federation captains were trying to incapacitate the Orissà: a Cardassian cruiser would be a prestigious trophy ….

On the viewscreen, they saw the Starship come around for another run.

“Ready phasers!”

Melset got no response from her array, “Gul Dukat, I have to fire manually.” Quickly inputting the coordinates while speaking, she managed to hit one of the ship’s nacelles, but realized that damage was minimal.

The Orissà once again shook under the impact of a phaser beam; damage reports came in, but again there was no greater harm to ship or crew, making everyone draw a surreptitious breath of relief.

“What are you waiting for, Glinn? Return fire! I repeat: ‘Fire!’”

Var Kailas looked over at Melset and quickly tapped areas of his display that made his neighbour look away apprehensively.

“Ready, Glinn Melset.” Var Kailas waited: three torpedoes at one shot…

“Phasers offline. Launching torpedoes.” Determined to put the ship out of commission, she fired the three missiles Kailas had activated without waiting for her superior’s command.

This time, finally, damage was severe enough to force its captain to withdraw. One of the nacelles had been severed from the body, a torpedo had penetrated the central disk, leaving a gaping hole. The message they intercepted however revealed that the Federation captain had managed to send a distress call requesting reinforcements while his own fleet was regrouping to engage the Cardassians.

In the meantime, rescue pods began pouring out of the ship.

Gul Dukat commanded, “Beam in as many as possible!”

“Two Federation ships entering sensor range.” There would be no captives this time…

“Prepare to engage.” The fleet of six ships under Gul Dukat’s command smoothly came about in standard formation; on each one, crews were feverishly working to repair damage.

“Weapons?” was his impatient query.

“Phasers still off-line, Gul Dukat.” She spoke into the intercom, “Engineering, we need those phasers!”

“Circuits fused. Replacing them. Only torpedoes.”

When Melset turned to give the report, she saw Dukat at her station and bristled inwardly when he reached across her console, thinking he considered her incapable of interpreting the readouts, that he suspected the phasers were online after all.

The Gul noticed the slight reaction, “If you permit, Glinn Melset,” and input a code she memorized with some satisfaction, then shook his head in disgust before notifying the other Guls in his fleet, “Gul Dukat of the Orissà. Weapons array severely damaged, repairs being effected. Situation?”

The responses came in at once, listing damage sustained. One of the cruisers was taken out. Gul Lessan had barely managed to reach the border under cover of the fighting; his crew was now effecting the most urgent repairs, supported by a team from a nearby colony.

Gul Dukat was still standing next to her so, in a very low voice, Melset said, “Gul Dukat, permission to suggest an alternative?”

The very act of directly addressing her superior officer in this situation was a risk as the hierarchy was strictly respected. She waited, did not look up at Gul Dukat as he seemingly inspected her station’s readouts. If he ignored her query it was his right; if not, she would get her chance. Gul Dukat nodded, stooping as though to examine her displays more closely; her attitude implied she did not know if her proposal was acceptable.

“Glinn Melset,” he looked over at her.

She replied in a very low murmur so that only he could hear her, yet clearly enough for the surveillance device she knew was there to record it. “Gul Dukat, Orissà withdraw as if forced to. Simulate severest damage, plasma leaks, hull breach. Next: eject debris with mines. If departure speed matched to scrap, it will carry scrap away from cruiser. Mines an unexpected factor.” She hesitated, “Other cruisers move off as though withdrawing. Re-engage after detonation.”

To her surprise, he nodded and straightened, rubbing his hands, his expression pleased, “My thought exactly.” Gul Dukat relayed the order to engineering, then turned to Melset who explained, looking up at him, “We fight and withdraw, regroup, come in again, but this is a different pattern. We are said to keep to patterns, thus a change of method will take them by surprise.”

He briefly grasped her shoulder in approval before returning to his seat. Confused, Melset concentrated on her station; she had only done her duty in suggesting this procedure, so why had Gul Dukat responded as though she was deserving of praise? His gesture was unfamiliar, made her uneasy.

“Withdraw!” Gul Dukat ordered.

Severely damaged, under impulse power, the Orissà limped towards the Federation-Cardassian border, leaving a trail of drifting debris in her wake. The lights that usually flashed along her hull were dark, at irregular intervals energy discharges coated the hull in flickers of bluish light … severest damage…

“Open frequencies. Let’s listen in on their discussion,” Dukat suggested with a hint of a smile.

The bridge crew was satisfied by what they heard.

“Best to attack while the Cardis are effecting repairs. Can get captives. To judge by the detritus, that cruiser has sustained heavy damage to its hull… weapons offline, plasma leaks,... loss of atmosphere …structural damage, hull breach possibly imminent. They’ll be lucky to reach their first outpost.”

“Disable further, but not destroy; attempt to take prisoners or gain access to ship.”

On the Orissà Engineering notified the bridge crew, “Provisional repairs effected. Phasers back online. Enough power if no greater impact destabilizes the jury-rigged systems.”  
While listening, Melset stared at the screen, eyes slightly widened, saw the commander come to stand at her side. “Get ready.”

Dukat nodded at Glinn Bogdan who briefly activated impulse to give the cruiser a slight spin to the side, effectively angling the weapons array to have a clear aim just over the debris to hit the starship after it sustained damage by the mines.

Turning to communications, Dukat ordered the var to transmit messages couched in static to the other cruisers. “Battle formation. Converge at my signal.” To the Federation starships, the random bursts of static made it seem communications were down as well.

Strategy implemented…. Any second now…. For a moment, Melset was apprehensive; if her plan was not successful, she would have failed her first critical test, a test her superior had granted her, trusting her instincts. A low murmur, “Steady now, Glinn, steady…” as the starship slowly drew closer. She shifted in her seat as though getting ready for an attack, tensed her neck membranes to full spread, did not notice Dukat glance down at her in a combination of curiosity and interest in spite of the situation.

Dukat’s order “Fire!” the detonation of four mines and Melset’s lunging forward to strike the phaser section to release a barrage of phaser blasts were simultaneous.

“Yes!” he exclaimed when the force of the detonations only marginally impacted the Orissà. The starship’s nacelles exploded but the captain managed to separate the disk, getting the crew and other personnel to safety. At the same time, the other cruisers in Dukat’s fleet, which had allegedly been withdrawing and were now just outside of visual range, converged on the remaining starships, implementing the last phase of the strategy. After a brief but violent encounter, the starships were beaten into retreat.

“Well done,” was his comment to no one in particular as he returned to his station, exchanging a few words with some of his bridge crew.

“Withdraw to just within border. Effect repairs. Orders to transfer to Suyyok’Nor for redeployment.”

Once the fleet had crossed the border and was well within Union territory, Gul Dukat rose to go to his ready room. On his way, he passed by Melset’s station and addressed her, “A word with you, Glinn.”

She followed him, matching his pace; when her commanding officer took his seat behind his desk, she stood at attention, eyes straight ahead.

He considered his new Glinn quietly: Impeccable dress as expected of even the lowest ranks, good instincts, combative, committed to duty, rarely showing much reaction to occurrences except for, as during the skirmish that had just taken place, positioning herself for an attack. In the month since arriving on his ship, Glinn Melset had spent most of her downtime in the company of her peers; listening devices revealed her interactions with them to be on a friendly but professional basis, that of comrades-in-arms. However, she often spent time with Glinn Kovar….

Via a monitor, he had listened to and observed a meeting she had called with the six recruits and twelve vars assigned to her first team. The seemingly innocuous questions she had asked, her responses to their replies had shown her skill in Order techniques of acquiring information about individuals, judging their abilities and mentality without their realizing it. She then assigned them positions to further develop those abilities that would be useful in future operations.

“Your proposal was unusual,” he began, “… but effective. Who instructed you? Not many would have considered this unconventional procedure.”

Her voice and expression remained matter-of-fact, with no hint of pride or satisfaction as she stated. “Gul Dukat, my instructors at the Academy as well as Guls Parn, Jasad and Previn advised us to analyse every situation down to its slightest elements, no matter how unimportant they might seem at first; they can be useful in estimating an attacker’s reactions, or to recognize weaknesses in his strategy or defence. Federation personnel’s priority usually is rescuing survivors, so you can count on having two enemies engaged in rescue operations. In our case, their fleet was reduced to three, shifting the odds in our favour.” She then added with distaste, “Those mines are Federation settler technique, but also that of Bajoran terrorists who attack our enclaves. Explosives are attached under shuttles carrying Cardassian settlers or goods to an enclave; one such act of terrorism was committed two years ago, in Dahkur Province. Normally, our methods are straightforward.”

“Commendable, Glinn Melset. You keep track of specifics and…” He hesitated, or at least seemed to do so, “… even adopt enemy methods on occasion. This is rather unusual, don’t you think so yourself?”

“Gul Dukat, I realize this may be considered questionable,” she said honestly, “Yet even enemy methods, provided they ensure success, should be an option if they further the interests of the Union.” Her eyes grew hard. “All of the Empires and Unions around us, Klingon, Romulan, Federation, Breen, are trying to take us into a stranglehold, annex our outlying systems one after the other, cross our borders in an effort to force us back into our central system. Central Command is on the front line of defence, all methods are justified in safeguarding the Union.”

Gul Dukat replied, “That is the dilemma of the past five centuries, my dear Glinn Melset. Alliances further trade, give us access to goods we need, but that is already the limit, unless you consider smuggling trade of sorts. Negotiations rarely have positive results: deliveries are manipulated, or goods hoarded to drive up prices. Fight, annex, expand to keep the level we have attained and not regress.” He rose, commenting with a slight smile, “You realize, of course, that this conversation has been recorded?”

Her reply was even, “I expected as much. With all due respect, Gul Dukat, even if this was not the case, or this a room without recording devices, my answers would have been the same.”

“I do not mean to express any doubt as to your integrity, Glinn Melset. Your sincerity and dedication is evident in your attitude and in your words to your troops.” Gul Dukat waited. There was only the same respectful attitude, the attentive waiting for orders he had come to expect from her. “Dismissed.”

The Glinn saluted, “Gul Dukat,” and left. Gul Dukat listened to the recording before returning to the bridge. As he walked around the bridge, his glance repeatedly strayed over to her. _Courses at the Order’s facilities… Normally, members of the military have little contact with the Order unless in case of security breaches or exchange of information. Her stance and manner indicate intensive training with this specific institution … An operative? Hardly. For a liaison she is far too young. Furthermore, her reactions in combat are typical of officers_.

Back in the centre seat, he could not refrain from glancing over at Glinn Melset, who was occupied with her duties. _That one is highly resilient both physically and mentally; she anticipates commands, adapted to my command style within barely two days; excellent instincts, a quick grasp of situations and possibilities._ He recalled one of the comments in her file. ‘Glinn Melset is strongly dedicated to Cardassia and her interests. Her abilities, strategic and otherwise, are not to be underestimated and should be furthered together with her creativity in dealing with various situations. Her strategies may at times be unconventional, but have met with success more often than not. I recommend her transferral to Gul Dukat’s command.’

Shortly before picking up his new personnel, he had met Guls Jasad and Previn on Outpost 47. At speaking about crew, he had mentioned the new Glinns he was to get. His peers had corroborated the evaluations he had read shortly after in every point. Jasad had shown grudging approval as to Melset, “You will be in for a few surprises with that one; she served on my cruiser as Glinn 1st level,” then added, “Unusual. In all, you are receiving excellent personnel.”

***************

Some months later, a message which had the crews and their commanders outraged reached the fleet that was under Gul Dukat’s command.

Gul Shengir stated, “The Federation has annexed a system within our borders, deployed warning beacons and registered it as Federation territory with Starfleet headquarters. Proceed there immediately. If the settlement is not abandoned voluntarily, take all necessary measures, even to eliminating its inhabitants and levelling the settlement.”

For a Gul 1st level to give a command directly was a sign that the situation was far more serious than a mere attempt to annex one system. It was the first phase in preparing for a massive offensive against the Federation. If Gul Dukat’s findings hinted at a concentration of Federation forces along the border, skirmishes could escalate into a localized war.

The response was immediate. “Commence battle drills: two each shift with random changes in personnel.” Gul Dukat nodded at Glinn Jelan who had already transmitted information on the system to all communits on the cruiser to bring the crew up to date.

Gul Dukat then ordered. “Glinns in command of troops: Begin intensive training. Glinns Kovar, Jelad, Melset, Prenar, Yadir and Mossa freed from regular duty effective immediately.”

The troops and their leaders met in what passed for a lounge: an empty storage bay that was converted to provisional quarters when used to ferry either prisoners to their work assignments or settlers and their equipment to their colonies.

Glinn Kovar activated the screen, displaying isometric data of the terrain in which they would be operating, gave everyone time to consider and subsequently analyse details prior to the discussion.

“Suggestions.” This order was meant for the Glinns alone. The Vars and recruits present were relegated to watching and could see whether their plans paralleled those of their superior officers.

The Glinns first discussed procedures in a group. Jelad, then Melset presented an analysis of the terrain around the illegal settlement which was on a low hill: flat, little cover; trenches essential. Spread out, surround the settlement before attacking from all sides to make the Cardassian forces seem more numerous than they were. Counting the teams from the other cruisers, they would have sufficient manpower, roughly 600 troops in all with 700 others waiting to be deployed at a moment’s notice, there was no risk of spreading their forces too thin. This initial attack from all sides would throw the settlers and the protecting forces off balance, permitting Cardassian forces to breach defences, distract the defenders, take captives, and possibly eradicate the entire settlement. Its development and defence systems could not be all that advanced as it was in the beginning stages.

Melset heard a subdued argument from her group and went over. “You were saying?”

Recruit Varko met her eyes, “Cut off energy and water from orbit, no explosion as that would alert the settlers, but produce destabilization of current and electronics components. A narrow-beam, low-frequency signal could effect that, even set off inexplicable explosions of sensitive equipment such as communications arrays, sensors. Subsequent beamdown of forces. The distraction will win us additional time.” He added, “The terrain is the problem. Contrary to Federation custom, they have their settlement on a hill…”

“Glinn Mossa, what is the composition of the top layers?” Glinn Jelad inquired.

“Topsoil covering igneous rock over a layer of mudstone, followed by sandstone, shale … Nothing useful.” He shrugged slightly. All of them had been hoping for some even marginally volatile substance to cause widespread damage.

“Then we work as agreed. The other ships will send in their teams at the same time.”

After the discussion, the Glinns outlined their plans to the very last details, then under the supervision of Gul Dukat’s second-in-command, attended a strategic discussion before their plan was approved in parts and relayed to the other cruisers to be combined with those approved there. The final plan would be presented within an hour then transmitted to all the crewmembers involved.

In the meantime, those troops and Glinns to be deployed checked their equipment, and reported to Shelan’s office for supplements: phaser packs, medikits and rations. That done, they returned to quarters, waiting.

Early the next morning the attack began. Everyone already knew his or her role within the platoon. To speed up the beamdown process, the cargo transporter was used; the troops assembled in the bay, waiting in silence, mentally reviewing procedures, considering alternatives to strategy.

A telltale vibration signalled battle had been engaged; at once, the groups rushed for the pads where they dematerialised to reappear on the planet’s surface, facing in all directions to oversee the entire area. They hit the ground to blast shallow trenches which would be deepened as needed.

The plan initially was a success, but the Federation had either moved with unusual speed or the settlement was of longer standing. Within two hours, the defenders had received reinforcements, a mass of personnel, both Starfleet and civilian, apparently from other regions on the planet as there was no way ships could have beamed them down unnoticed. _Where have they come from? No doubt clandestine activity has been going on for months already. Who is the officer responsible for this part of the border? This negligence was inexcusable._ To judge by the expressions of the troops and their Glinns, they had but one thought: _The traitor must be found and face a military tribunal lest this set a precedent._ The combatants were pinned down, unable to advance, yet unwilling to retreat even a metre.

“Deepen trenches – allow for overhang facing the defenders.”

The smell of burning earth and rock promised better cover.

Glinn Yadir contacted the others, “Concentrate fire in southwest after trenches completed. They will try to take out the nest. When detonations have ceased, no fire, no sound. They’ll think you’ve been neutralized, come within range to inspect the situation or concentrate on the remaining areas, permitting us to strike from the other, less protected side. Set sensor-triggered charges in empty trenches to create distraction, close in again. Drive Federation personnel in that direction. Prenar begin!”

In the distance, the troops could hear and feel the vibrations of phaser fire from the cruisers in orbit. Melset exchanged glances with Yadir, saw he knew that if they did not have a quick and decisive victory, even the cruisers’ supporting fire would be useless … Obviously, installations were underground, concealing them in imitation of Cardassian methods.

The battle was reengaged, but now with rapidly shifting concentrations of fire from Prenar’s area, sporadic from the others, then shifting in intensity in a random pattern. The Cardassians waited, fought, imperceptibly moved their trenches forward by blasting the forward wall and letting the overhang collapse in on itself.

“Mossa here. Movement towards Prenar.”

A nod to her neighbour … they cautiously looked over the rims of their trenches. Not all the defenders had joined the movement, they were not as naïve as all that, but even this could make a difference. All could visualize Prenar’s men getting ready.

In about two kilometres’ distance the troops from Gul Turrell’s ship were engaged in battle; the situation there was the same: monitoring progress from the cruisers, selecting targets to destroy or disable communications, infrastructure and level non-essential buildings while beaming down additional troops in unexpected locations to wear down the defenders by constantly forcing them to change their own strategies.

“Glinn Ulašin here. Massive reflux of Federation forces, trying to hold them off. Notify ….“ His message was cut short by heavy fire followed by a violent detonation.  
In the far distance, a cloud of smoke and soil rose, then collapsed in on itself with a rumble. Seconds later, the force of the explosion made the ground vibrate. No one could have survived such a massive detonation …

From the other end of the trench, Yadir met her eyes. A moment later, a message came in.

“Glinn Kovar here. No signs of life. All indicates Glinn Ulašin and his men have been eliminated. Shift forces to replace them.” The officer’s voice was icy with anger.

In helpless rage, Melset struck the side of the trench with her fist. _Unnecessary loss! These men were, all of us are, being sacrificed to rectify the outcome of one officer’s lack of vigilance and dedication to duty! So many casualties! The Federation and that traitor will pay double and triple price for each Cardassian who dies today!_

Two days later, they still remained where they were; nearly each one of them had sustained injuries, but no one requested beamup. Two of the severely injured had to be forced at phaserpoint to return to their cruisers. Through the clouds of earth and smoke detached by phaser blasts, the Cardassians saw the group of Starfleet officers and civilians advance, making use of the slightest cover, or blasting the upper layer of soil to form berms for shelter. Their voices could already be heard. How many are there anyway? The Cardassian forces still were sure the planet would be reclaimed, the invaders eliminated, the entire system returned to those who legally owned it. Worrying about odds was futile; all they could do was to turn the situation in their favour by whatever means at their disposal.

With violent outrage, they saw a Federation officer stop next to a dead Cardassian, remove his insignia, badge of rank and communicator then turn him over with the butt of his phaser rifle to see whether there was more before stuffing his finds into his pocket like a Ferengi would latinum. With a smug grin, he slung the dead Cardassian’s phaser rifle over his shoulder. The human then told one of his comrades, a Bolian, to check a Glinn and a Var, lying a little further off. Searching a casualty disturbed neither Melset nor the others, it was tacitly accepted custom in combat situations. Cardassians routinely searched the bodies of their opponents for data rods, pads or weapons, all of which could contain information or help counter Federation weapons. At times they took warm clothing or protective gear to supplement their own, especially when on planets with a cool climate; temperatures of below 20°C could incapacitate and even kill a Cardassian. What did offend her and her troops was that the men were looking for souvenirs to show off at home to prove they had killed some Cardis. These objects would be prominently displayed on a shelf, gloated over, shown to curious neighbours or traded for other souvenirs, later be toys for this man’s children when he told them stories of pitched battles against the scaly bastards. _Too bad he is out of range_…

Someone touched her wrist just as she was taking aim; it was Var Sanjol, “Found depression, crater opened by initial attack. Less exposed; better aim, Glinn Melset.”

She relayed the information to nearby personnel before moving out. Melset looked over at one of the recruits Gul Dukat had assigned her; not quite seventeen years old, he was experiencing his first taste of combat, determined to serve Cardassia. He was calm, did not fire at random but systematically and efficiently picked his targets as if on the shooting range; without missing a shot recruit Varko passed on the word so that, within seconds, the entire group began moving towards the depression. Increasingly, however, the battle shifted in favour of the Federation forces in spite of all their efforts. 500 metres away, the situation was no better. The way it looked, the Guls would be obliged to recall their forces within hours. The very thought of retreat was chilling: to give up, withdraw, leave this system to the Federation when it was on the very border of the Empire, already had a colony that was becoming productive …. Their first battle as Glinns 3rd level, lost. And yet, their strategy had been approved by the Guls, was successful in the beginning …

_This must not end in defeat!_ Unhooking a small but powerful explosive from her belt, she held it up for recruit Varko to see. He nodded, understanding, kept up his fire while waiting for her to crawl to the lip of the trench then raise herself up on one elbow and throw the grenade with all her strength. He fired, the beam passing just below the projectile, giving the grenade added impetus, propelling it towards the enemy in a cloud of dust and soil that served as camouflage. They saw it explode in the middle of Federation forces, saw many of them fall. The Cardassians pressed themselves against the ground to avoid the detritus raining down on them. The losses on the other side briefly decreased the intensity of fire, allowing them to shift position very slightly.

Hours of unrelenting battle, defenders and attackers engaging, retreating, retreating and advancing in a mind-numbing ritual… slowly it seemed the Cardassians were finally forcing their enemy into the defensive. Their own fighters showed no signs of exhaustion; high-energy field rations kept them alert as did the hope of victory. Encouraged, they pressed forward, some shouting “Talsvar Kardassu!” as a rallying call.

Suddenly, a rumour that Starfleet reinforcements were nearing, news corroborated by the Guls’ orders “Starfleet reinforcements, three starships, ETA in under ninety minutes. Beam up.”

The civilians and the Federation forces, encouraged by the news had received, pressed forward in spite of the determined resistance of the Cardassians. Suddenly, a massive explosion … the ground burst outwards. Within seconds, everything around Melset became a blur of frenetic activity; as if in trance, she shouted orders, with Jelad pulled as many of the wounded to safety as she could, saw that recruit Varko was unnaturally still …, Glinn Jelad ordered her to beam up. She fought against increasing weakness before losing consciousness.

When Melset opened her eyes, she realized she was in sickbay, immobilized. She fought for awareness, tried to speak, had to know only one essential detail before ceding to the sedative again. A hoarse whisper, “My troops?” Someone she could not see as her view was obscured by a sterilight, came to her bed. “My troops?” She fought for breath.

“Sanjol, Adral, Vardran and Kadrai are here. The others sustained minor injuries, are back on duty.” She recognized Medic Jeskor’s voice.

“Varko?” She struggled to pronounce the name, trying to stay conscious until she knew.

“Lost him, Ledro and Kemikor.” He touched her left hand which was free of sensors and packs.

To her humiliation, she felt her eyes burn with tears. _They were good Cardassians, died defending the Union, but the potential lost_…. She felt Jeskor draw the thermal cover a little more tightly around her for warmth.

Doctor Kedra came over, “You will be able to retake your post in eight days after five more days of sedation, then three days of rest in quarters, Glinn Melset. You sustained severe injuries to your right leg and arm, concussion, lacerations, internal injuries, five broken ribs, damaged gastralia.” So quietly that only she could hear, he added, “You and the other Glinns made no strategic errors. Gul Dukat has authorized me to tell you that much.” He made a minor adjustment to an aggregate in the side of the bed, “I shall increase the heating to further healing. Ah, yes, Glinn Kovar has repeatedly inquired about you.”

She nodded weakly in thanks, then heard the hiss of a hypospray ….

Five days later, renewed consciousness. Melset cautiously tensed her muscles in turn, felt slight discomfort but recognized healing was well advanced. At opening her eyes, she saw Gul Dukat next to her bed, looking down at her with a smile.

“Ah, Glinn Melset, you are with us again.” He obviously wanted to lighten the mood after Jeskor and Dr Kedra had told him about her reaction to the loss of some of her troops, her fear she and her fellow Glinns had failed, thus compromising Cardassia’s interests. “You Glinns performed well under the circumstances and are to be commended. We expected far greater losses; many of our forces narrowly escaped captivity or death. The Gul responsible for this sector was arrested and tried three days after. It may comfort you that his public execution has already taken place. I will give you a recording so that you can witness it.” After a moment, he added, “Your initiative was commendable, as is your solidarity even with the lowest ranks.”

“Gul Dukat, what do you mean? Which initiative?” Her pulse raced, “Why don’t I remember it?” Briefly forgetting he was her superior, she touched his arm, apprehensive. At seeing her unease, her commander grasped her hand reassuringly.

Melset heard someone come over, but was unable to see who it was.

Dr. Kedra had hurried over and held up his hands, cautioning Gul Dukat not to say anything to disturb his patient. “Gul Dukat, Glinn Melset will be able to give you a report in a few days, but for now any stress could be harmful. In three days she will be released to recuperate in quarters. You can debrief her then.”

“Understood, Dr. Kedra. I only wanted to assure her,” Gul Dukat gestured at Glinn Melset, “that she and her fellow Glinns are not considered responsible for the defeat.” He drew Kedra aside, quickly gave him some information. The doctor nodded, pleased.

The other four troops left within two days; on the third, Dr. Kedra detached the last of the sensors and supports then waved over Medic Jeskor. “I have to file some reports; you know what to do.”

The medic directed her to sit on the edge of the bed and waited. “How is it?”

Pushing herself up on her elbows, Melset got into a sitting position, waiting before she swung her legs over the side. “Slight vertigo, fading rapidly.” He noticed she resented the residual weakness, wanted nothing more than to report for duty at once.

Jeskor explained, “Only to be expected: you were sedated for roughly nine days to further regeneration.” Some moments later, he said, “Now try to stand.” Jeskor held out his arm to support her when she eased herself off the bed, gradually putting her weight on her legs before taking some tentative steps. Melset looked down at her body and saw that her legs and left arm were still slightly swollen and discoloured, her side and abdomen bruised even beneath the thicker scales that were reinforced by bony plates.

Jeskor followed her gaze, “The swelling and discoloration will subside within another day or two. That entire area looked far more interesting when you were beamed in. Dr. Kedra has granted you three days of recuperation in quarters; report here on the third for a physical, and he will decide.” Not reacting to her exclamation of protest at the delay, he brought her clothing from the storage room.

Melset grinned while he was helping her dress and, seeing he was curious, explained, “Just remembering when I was a Var on Gul Previn’s ship and was taken prisoner. This,” she was half-naked, “would have been unthinkable. Imagine: separate cells, rooms and facilities for males and females, a chaperone as they called it when a male medical officer of no matter which race treated a female prisoner or patient, or had to enter her cell, go to her bed. …There were even privacy screens in all cells. Our crew quarters? They call them primitive; demeaning.”

The medic held the leisure uniform top closed while Melset hooked the fastenings together, then gave it a slight tug to adjust the tight-fitting garment.

Jeskor wondered about those concepts which were so very alien to them both. Cardassians were highly-disciplined, geared to duty. If the presence of a fellow troop of the opposite gender proved distracting, that was to the discredit of the distracted. All served Cardassia. There was time for service, there was time for other elements, but never on duty, never in crew quarters, but only within their families and homes in the Union. Apparently a few Humans tended to transpose their own norms to other aliens, especially those they considered either a threat or, conversely, attractive.

With a respectful gesture, Jeskor said, “Provided you feel safe with me, Glinn Melset, I am to accompany you to quarters.” When she wanted to protest, his expression became serious, “Glinn, a fall could have severe effects at this time.”

Melset shrugged in unwilling resignation; Cardassian ships’ corridors with their elevated elements that were part of the inner support of the vessels made no allowances for any form of disability. With a wry grin, she stated, “Wouldn’t want more downtime in Dr Kedra’s sickbay.”

They were nearly at the door when Dr Kedra entered to give Jeskor a data chip. “Just a moment! The commander has authorized her replicator to be activated to produce level 7A to 7C meals with supplements for three days.”

Not believing what she had heard, Glinn Melset could not help staring at the medical officer incredulously. Level 7 rations! She had never even seen, let alone had this luxury. The lower ranks called them Legate’s rations.

“Gul Dukat insisted on this, says you and your comrades have to regain your strength quickly. He was quite concerned.” Anyone could recognize that the doctor was pleased.  
“This is most kind.” The Glinn’s gratitude was unmistakable.

“Ah, yes, one more thing: he will come to your quarters to debrief you in roughly six hours; he needs some more information for his reports; he will keep the session short as he already has most of the details from your comrades.”

The way to her quarters went smoothly, but very slowly, much to her disgust. In one of the corridors they met Var Kadrai who saluted, then asked, “Glinn Melset? I trust you are well?”

She returned the salute with a friendly nod, “Yes, Var Kadrai. Three more days and I can retake my post. And you?”

“On duty since five days ago. I only had some fractures and lacerations. The Gul was most generous with our rations; I have never experienced that before.” Var Kadrai added, “He said that this is the least he can do for us.”

“He is concerned about his subordinates’ well-being. I have heard about his attention to his crew.” She smiled at the var. _Always remember: show concern for your subordinates, see to their interests; it will create loyalty and trust_.

Kadrai looked at her, strangely hesitant, before saying, “I am in your debt, too, Glinn Melset.” He saluted again then went to the bridge, leaving Melset staring after him, puzzled.

Once in Melset’s quarters, Jeskor helped her to the table, programmed the replicator and brought her the meal. “Enjoy. In the meantime I’ll get the replacement uniform from quartermaster Shelan. The old one was irreparable. You should have seen his face when he saw what was left of the thing.” He laughed, commenting as he went out, “He parts with material as hard as does a Ferengi with latinum!” Half an hour … _Kedra said she will not touch those rations in front of anyone not entitled to them as they are far beyond standard._ Jeskor hoped that his manner had put her a little more at ease about this luxury which she was so reluctant to accept.

By the time she had finished and replaced the dishes in the replicator, Jeskor was back with the new uniform and armour; he held them up for her to inspect for flaws before laying them in her storage compartment.

“Standard Glinn’s Issue.” He commented with an exaggerated look of disappointment.

“Third level, I presume?” She inquired with a sigh of mock resignation.

“Only issue he was willing to part with, I fear. He was quite firm about that. I know. I tried.” He turned to leave. “Gul Dukat will come to debrief you in roughly five hours.”

Outside of duty, there seldom was time for relaxation, some joking, discussions, interrogation games, or games of strategy; in principle, everyone was on duty even during downtime, so the real thing was luxury. The medic, provided he also had time off, often joined the officers. Sickbay staff, while not necessarily military personnel, was always welcome. They were essential to the efforts of Central Command, at times had access to unexpected information. Medic Jeskor was popular among the troops on Gul Dukat’s ship; he was competent, concerned, yet kept his distance; at times, he joined in practice sessions, as he was specialized in Romulan hand-to-hand combat; his father, a diplomat, had once taken him along for a year’s stay in the Empire. Jeskor had wanted a military career, but a medical condition had precluded this. True to Cardassian mentality, he wasted no time on regret, but chose a profession that would support Central Command’s efforts.

“So,” he told her during her first physical, “I decided I would help our personnel get back on their feet, respectively keep them there. Everyone can serve the Union, no matter what he does.”

As soon as she was alone, Melset lay down; the effort of walking to her quarters and the relatively large, very rich meal had her fast asleep within moments. Four hours later, she rose, cleansed herself then put on full uniform in accordance to regulation. That done, the Glinn waited, reading a data rod a comrade had brought by during her absence.

The door chime activated.

“Enter.”

It was Gul Dukat. Melset rose to stand at attention and saluted, “Talsvar Kardassu!”

Her commanding officer answered in like, then said, “Glinn Melset, Dr. Kedra has informed me that you should be back on duty in three days. For now, I want to ask you for an account of the battle, as well as an evaluation of your troops’ actions under fire.”

Still standing at attention, the Glinn began her report. “Operations Stardate…”

After considering her for a moment, he interrupted her. “At ease, Glinn Melset. Sit down. I shall do so myself. You may well be feeling some residual weakness.” At seeing her hesitate, he sat down first, indicated she take the other chair.

She followed suit and described the situation encountered, the strategies used, defence tactics up to the detonation, followed by troop evaluations. Gul Dukat asked for some details then nodded, satisfied.

“A very comprehensive report which corroborates the statements of your troops.” He took out a padd, “One last duty: Recruit Varko… Glinn Jelad has completed Vars Ledro’s and Kemikor’s files.”

She presented her observations, concluding with, “According to his files, he had no prior combat experience apart from basic training and combat simulations at the Academy, yet remained calm under fire even when the situation became critical. Recruit Varko chose his targets quickly, efficiently. Excellent reactions, fine aim. Not one shot was wasted. He also anticipated moves at once. When I held up a grenade, he knew my plan, fired at precisely the right angle so that the explosive would not be detonated prematurely, but gain added distance and impetus.” With satisfaction, she added, “It fell into the middle of those Federation forces, eliminated many of them. He died like a true Cardassian, fighting to the end, although the situation was hopeless.” The Glinn inclined her head. “All of the troops lost in that battle were good men.”

At noticing her struggle for control, Gul Dukat looked at her, recognized her grief and said, recalling his own experiences in the course of his career: friends lost, fine officers all of them, even a fiancée when he was a Glinn 2nd level. “I know the feelings you are presently experiencing, have experienced them repeatedly myself. Whoever doesn’t is not suited for command as he would sacrifice lives far too lightly and lose the loyalty of his men. The loss of personnel is never easy, nor does it become easier with time. This is an integral part of command. You are responsible for the troops, for their well-being, you lead them into battle, hope to bring them back safely; they are like family; as a Glinn you will soon be leading up to 120 men into battle. As a Gul, you have up to 650 lives in your hands. At sustaining traumatic losses, channel grief into even greater determination and exact revenge for each single Cardassian, civilian, troop or officer who has given his life for The Union.”

The answer was a slight nod. “Gul Dukat, I grieve for the potential lost due to recruit Varko’s and the other men’s death; they are irreplaceable, had so much to contribute to our efforts; you assigned me excellent men, but Varko … I immediately recognized his potential.” She hesitated, carefully choosing her words, “He would have had the potential to rise through the ranks to the top echelons. When Glinn Terpak assigned me the troops, I had them assemble in one of the empty storage bays so that I could speak to and evaluate them. It is essential to get an impression of those I am to lead.”

“And how?” Gul Dukat met her eyes, his own reflecting curiosity.

“He was always looking to gain knowledge, studied everything he could find about strategy, weapons systems. He analysed previous conflicts and the tactics used by our enemies, our countermeasures, used them to analyse present conflicts, developed strategies; I planned to propose him for early promotion to Var … Such dedication as his is rare. When we established strategy for this past conflict, my fellow Glinns and I discussed the situation before I asked for input from the Vars and recruits. These ranks are normally excluded from planning, but at times the rank and file have excellent instincts. With your permission, I should like to help my troops develop them.”

“You have it without asking, Glinn Melset. Those troops are your responsibility; you should be pleased to hear my second in command and I have decided to expand your team to sixty men.” When she met his eyes, surprised about this unexpected development, he added, “You have deserved this advancement.”

“Gul Dukat, permission to ask a question.”

“Proceed, Glinn Melset.”

“Gul Dukat, what did I do after that explosion? Var Kadrai addressed it, you did when you came to Sickbay. I do not recall what happened."

“You eliminated a group of combatants who were about to take out Glinn Mossa’s troops; then tried to get as many of the injured to safety as you could; together with Glinn Jelad, you got eight or nine of them into position for beam out which probably saved them as the situation forced us to consider strategic withdrawal. Jelad stunned you, realizing that you were seriously injured, but not before you had thrown yourself to the ground to fire at Federation forces who were attempting to take prisoners.” He waited a moment, “Even unconscious, you did not let go of Varko. The piece of uniform you were clutching to drag him away had to be cut off before they could get you onto that biobed; under the impression that you had failed the Union, you were demanding to be debriefed, although you were in no condition to understand any questions, let alone respond.”

“Thank you, Gul Dukat. You are most kind. But I recall nothing of this.” He saw apprehension in her eyes.

“It is a mild form of shell shock that will wear off in another day or so. You have experienced combat more than once, but this was far more intensive. Short-term memory loss can happen to anyone and is a form of mental self-defence; even we occasionally need some time to process traumatic memories.” Gul Dukat considered her while remembering his own time as a Glinn: the conflicts, the questions …

Pensively, Melset looked at her hands; saw Jeskor had taken care of her nails; the edges were slightly jagged where they had been split to the quick. For some reason, this annoyed her. She muttered disgustedly, “Not regulation…”

“Your uniform is, Glinn Melset,” was Gul Dukat’s comment. “Your troops were the same, exemplary. Not one came to his debriefing in basic uniform, in spite of having just been released from sickbay.”

“A superior officer is due respect.”

All the while, Gul Dukat had been looking around her quarters while listening to her report. Now, the debriefing over, he commented, shifting position to fully take in the living area. “Glinn Melset, there is no sign these rooms are occupied, apart from that spare uniform and two civilian outfits in the closet.”

_Why is he asking this?_ She looked at him in surprise and answered honestly. “I consider it best for nothing to reveal my interests, heritage or preferences. Quarters should be a neutral setting. In case a subordinate has to be counselled, he cannot try to create a bond of common interest in the hope of escaping disciplinary action.”

“And, conversely, this permits you to see where security has installed listening devices, so as to briefly deactivate them? Or perhaps discourage an Order operative?” His intonation was very serious, unsmiling, belying the glint in his eyes.

Startled at the remark, she answered, “No, Gul Dukat, this very idea is inconceivable! Those devices are essential for our safety, which is ensured by the Order. Any attempt to sabotage them is a court-martial offence! Quarters are where most indiscretions occur.”

There was a moment of silence, then “You do seem to appreciate the Order,” was the drawled reply as his eyes, so intensive a shade of blue, became cold, evaluating.

Realizing that he was one of the Militaries who resented the Order, she did not react to his abrupt shift in manner, “Yes, Gul Dukat. It is the first line of defence within the borders of the Union, watching for dissident movements or agents from offworld who could destroy all the advances of the past five hundred years. Detapa administrates civilian affairs, Central Command safeguards Cardassia’s borders, secures resources in other systems, expands our territory.” She met his eyes, her own unwavering, “They all three serve Cardassia in equal measure.” _This is common knowledge taught in the first year of education. Have I made such a serious error that Gul Dukat feels I need to call these basic facts to mind?_

He did not answer at once, looking at the Glinn. _Unusual colour of eyes and very attractive features._ _For all her control, she is passionate, to go by what the troops said about her actions in battle._ “Well, my dear Glinn Melset,“ he said, leaning back and looking at her over the tips of his steepled fingers, “I have taken the time to read your file and seen you took a year of courses with the Order. In spite of this unusually heavy workload, you graduated Glinn 3rd level a few weeks ago, 6th in rank, at barely age 24, which is quite an accomplishment.” With a mocking smile, he asked, “The Order was helpful, wasn’t it? It is said to further and protect its own.”

Her answer was immediate, did not hint at the resentment she felt at the insinuation. “With all due respect, Gul Dukat, my success was not suggested to the Military Academy by the Order. It was with the Order’s express permission that I attended one year of courses parallel to the Academy’s curriculum. I received no favours, nor would have accepted any. Every month my instructors at the Academy transmitted comprehensive evaluations to the administrator of the Obsidian Order’s educational center and vice versa. At the slightest doubt of my being able to cope with dual studies, the privilege of Order training would have been revoked at once. The head of the Institute made this very clear.” This query was just short of insulting, made her wonder about its purpose.

He kept on eying her, “Most clever, my dear Glinn Melset. To hedge your bets, as it were. In case you did not manage one area of competence, you would have the other to fall back on and still pursue a prestigious career in one of our key organizations … one of the ‘pillars of Cardassian society’ as you choose to call them.” His amusement was barely hidden while he waited for her to rise to the bait he had thrown; a Gerschechi or Varagasi female would already have recognized what he was doing, begun to fight back.

She ignored his amusement, although she felt he was playing some sort of game with her, a game in which she refused to participate as it involved her professional reputation, and replied, “Gul Dukat, I took those courses precisely because I wanted a career with Central Command. I inscribed in the Order’s courses because it has special techniques in interrogative procedures, offers intensive language instruction, courses on behavioural patterns of offworlders, methods of manipulating them into complying with expectations, and this is the most important element: installation of surveillance and security devices, codes, weapons modifications… all valuable skills I may need at some time, skills I am willing to share provided there is interest in or need of them. This should be sufficient evidence of my intentions when I accepted this privilege.”

Gul Dukat did not answer at once, only considering Melset calmly, curiously. “Well, well, well, you are most generous, my dear Glinn Melset. Tell me: should I request an Order agent to ensure greater security on the Orissà?”

A moment of renewed silence before she replied, “I would never presume to make any such suggestion, Gul Dukat. Determining the scope of on-board security is the prerogative of the commanding officer alone.” The Glinn was disturbed by the questions, did not know what to make of them. Moreover, it was an accepted fact that there were agents on all cruisers, with or without the Guls’ knowledge.

Gul Dukat nearly smiled at hearing her intonation of surprise, the variations in tonality that fascinated him as they were different to those of Standard Cardassian. _I would like to hear her speak in her own form of Kardassi._

“Ah, most regrettable: no suggestions from you then. I was hoping for input, you know. After all, you are Glinn 3rd level, thus entitled to submitting proposals concerning shipboard affairs.” Gul Dukat was now smiling openly, his eyes glinting with amusement. It was obvious he, at least, was greatly enjoying the exchange.

The Glinn most certainly was not… With sudden, chilling apprehension, Melset remembered her Varagasi room mate at the Academy, realized what her commanding officer was doing in a far more sophisticated way. After a moment, though, apprehension yielded to the challenge. She had put Jedrol in his place directly, quickly, yet in a way that left him with his pride intact, making for continued friendly relations, but a superior? That was another matter altogether. _He has a reputation for selecting companions during missions … Gul Dukat is interesting, highly intelligent, admittedly a very attractive male, but this is against regulations, and he has joined. As to myself, Glinn Kovar and I will speak to our families when we next stay on Cardassia Prime and make our commitment official_ … Inwardly, she relaxed, now anticipating what would follow. Attack – Counterattack – Shields up… She replied evenly, “This is not the case regarding shipboard arrangements, Gul Dukat. This prerogative is restricted to questions of strategy and, in some cases, posting of personnel.”

He ignored the last sentences to pounce on the Order’s techniques, “So you mean to imply that Central Command is incapable of safeguarding Cardassia’s interests without Order support?” His expression was cold, yet a smile seemed hidden in his eyes as he awaited the Glinn’s response.

Ignoring the flicker of humour, Melset countered, “No, Gul Dukat. The Order shares the information it obtains from its networks of agents and operatives with Central Command and places all discoveries made in its laboratories, all innovations regarding arms and defence systems at the disposal of the military, thus giving Central Command its full support, cooperating for the greater good. That ultimately protects us all, not only one segment of the population. We are all Cardassians, regardless of status and duties.”

He waited, then, very slowly, inquired. “Glinn Melset, I am most curious: you described recruit Varko as a true Cardassian. Now tell me: How would you evaluate yourself? Would call yourself one?” He leaned back, head slightly to the side, with a slight hint of a smile. _It will be interesting indeed to see how she solves this problem._

This query shocked the Glinn; she stared at him, bewildered, before answering. “I would never do that, Gul Dukat! It would be presumption, a sign that this individual is liable to commit treason in the long run. Whoever is so overbearing as to call himself a true Cardassian is so arrogantly convinced of his own dedication, qualities and importance that he disregards the accomplishments of those who were before, those who are now and those who are yet to be. It is to Cardassia as a whole and to Cardassia alone determine who is and who is not a true Cardassian. Only deeds and history will speak.” Her voice was passionate, showed the intensity of her emotions.

Gul Dukat stared at her in surprise. _That Glinn has a deeply ingrained sense of patriotism. She takes everything at face value, however, does not recognize this exchange as a challenge and the wish to get to know her better._ He did not reply, watching her curiously, trying to evaluate her.

To his discomfort, she inquired in a very subdued, nearly pleading, though even tone of voice, “Gul Dukat, give me permission to ask a question about this inquiry.”  
This should be intriguing. “Permission granted, Glinn Melset.”

“You are my commanding officer, Gul Dukat, have observed me as is regulation, have read my files. Have I done anything that might place my patriotism and execution of my duties in doubt? If so, I respectfully ask you to inform me of my error so I may rectify it.”

When no reply came apart from his calm gaze, she continued, her voice barely audible, her posture subtly different, so that her shoulders now seemed to slump, as if she was in severe emotional distress. At noticing this, he felt uncomfortable when she said with devotion, “Gul Dukat, I have been raised to always consider Cardassia, Family and Duty first and foremost, as have my parents, and their parents before them. Cardassia is our family, our life, has the greatest culture in the Quadrant, the most glorious history. What would we be without her? We must keep on fighting, at home and on the borders, expand her sphere of influence whatever the cost. For us, Cardassia is everything. I would sooner die than to damage her integrity.” Gul Dukat realized he had hurt her by asking that last question and wished to make amends.

Trying to reassure her, he said, “Glinn Melset, I assure you I never meant to question your loyalties or your integrity, certainly do not doubt your patriotism; your files show what you have accomplished so far. I should hope you did not get the impression I am the kind of Commander to make a pastime of humiliating a subordinate whose talents and abilities it is my duty to further. This was not my intention.”

“Gul Dukat, it is your right as the commander of this cruiser to question and analyse any subordinate’s ideas and concepts. The unwavering dedication of the entire crew is essential. If dissent and treason weaken Central Command, defeat and collapse will follow. Your questions encourage self-evaluation.” Hesitantly, she offered, “Gul Dukat, if you wish,” she did not end the sentence, apparently thinking her suggestion could be too presumptuous. Her voice was firm, as if the distress of only seconds ago had never been.

“You are all right?” He asked when she looked at him uncertainly; then, he recalled her file. _Perali City, Kelan Province. What did they assign to my ship? A Kelani Cardassian, of all things!_ He sighed inwardly at realizing the implications. _No wonder there was no response to my challenge. They have far different customs and are rather conservative. It is for the best. Sarika; when I had the contact with Siyetani … Decidedly unpleasant reaction indeed_…

“I have kept you too long, for over two hours. Dr Kedra cautioned me to avoid overtiring you.” With those words, he rose and she followed suit.

Coming to stand at attention, Melset saluted and called out “Talsvar Kardassu!” to which he answered in like.

Just before leaving, he quickly glanced back only to see her grasp the back of the chair and stand there quietly. Concerned, he returned, put an arm around her for support. “Glinn Melset, you can barely remain on your feet. Allow me.” Gul Dukat felt her tense up against the physical contact. “This is no sign of weakness. You were seriously injured.” He helped her over to her bunk. _She put up a fierce fight in spite of being half unconscious and seriously injured herself, only running on sheer determination and adrenaline, pulled those recruits to safety before Glinn Jelad stunned her, ‘Don’t underestimate her’, a fitting comment._ Melset did not recall what she had done, but the others did… and, it was included in her file.

She sat down and met his eyes. “You are most kind, Gul Dukat. There is one more thing: I thank you in the name of my troops and in my own for your generosity in according us those supplementary rations.” Before he left, she asked, “Gul Dukat, is there any possibility of placing records of the events of the past 10 days at my disposal? I fear I have been unable to follow developments due to circumstances.”

He nearly laughed at her phrasing. “Of course, Glinn Melset. Glinn Terpak will see to it at once.”

In the corridor, he shook his head, amused by the turn the whole latter part of the conversation had taken. _Strategy misfired due to subversive tactics instituted by one Kelani Cardassian. Too bad I can’t get into the Order’s Academy files… They would be worth reading._

A young officer came towards him and passed after giving the regulation salute before heading for Glinn Melset’s door.

“Var Tepek,” Gul Dukat appreciated the young military for his efficiency and knowledge, but there was something about his demeanour that made him suspect this Var was an agent, but so far, he had found no proof of this. No transmissions, no encoded messages… Glinn Melset appeared to trust him; Dukat had listened to some of their conversations: strategy, developments along the border, family, studies, methods of intelligence and interrogation … nothing that would have hinted at more than friendship…  
Dukat saw Tepek touch the access panel of Glinn Melset’s door, then wait.

“She has just been debriefed and is no doubt resting as the inquiry took longer than expected. Glinn Melset was released from sickbay a few hours ago.”

“My comrades and I were waiting for her to return to quarters before giving her this, Gul Dukat; we had promised her one of her own.” He held up a data rod.

From where he stood, Dukat heard a short conversation, a pleased exclamation from the Glinn, then Var Tepek came out and explained, “Gul Dukat, we had a copy of a captured data rod containing Federation codes. The files have been recorded in the central computer, and I obtained the authorization from my immediate superior Glinn Chedrol, to give her a copy, as it contains no classified data. Glinn Melset said she needs the practice. I did owe her a favour.”

_There is nothing except for his detachment, his total neutrality and constant watchfulness that would indicate Order membership…. Perhaps I am overreacting due to what happened to my father._ With a shrug, he turned away. Melset could associate with whomever she wanted.

  
Var Tepek saluted and left. Gul Dukat went to his quarters; it was possible messages had arrived, new orders…. Remembering the latter part of the interview with Melset, he felt slightly guilty; in spite of her words, she had seemed hurt at his questioning her loyalties even though he had meant no harm: his suggestions would have had a Gerschechi or Varagasi respond in kind. _I have to make things right; she is an excellent officer, totally committed to the Union. She did not deserve this humiliation as she no doubt considers the latter part of our conversation._

Back in her quarters, Melset switched on her annex. Gul Dukat was a fine officer, she appreciated being under his command, but his reputation as a connoisseur of fine specimens as Nabros had said during a conversation, made her uneasy. Her ethnicity’s norms were conservative even by Cardassian standards; on Cardassia, an extramarital affair was considered a disgrace for both families; the guilty were often disowned by their families, and militaries given a dishonourable discharge.

After his shift had ended, Glinn Kovar left the bridge and met Glinn Jelad who was going on-duty. The officers exchanged salutes then Jelad said, “Glinn Kovar, positive news: Glinn Melset has been released from sickbay. She’s in her quarters after debriefing.”

“Thank you for the information.” Finally! Glinn Kovar marched on, but the moment he rounded the corner, hurried to his quarters, took out a small box, then went to Melset’s and activated the door chime.

“Enter” Melset had taken off her armour after Dukat’s departure and was now reading the rod Tepek had brought her.

“I want to see for myself that you are all right.” Kovar stood in the door, smiling at her.

“Devrin! Enter! I did not expect you!”

“Glinn Jelad told me that you have been released to recuperate in quarters, so I wanted to see you, Iniki.” Kovar looked at her, relieved that she was fully recovered from her injuries. “I tried to get into Sickbay, but Dr. Kedra refuses to let anyone visit his patients. ‘I have enough to do patching up casualties without visitors getting in the way or keeping my patients from getting the rest they need.’ There was nothing I could do.”

She laughed about the typical reaction of shipboard doctors. “Considering the sameness of their replies, we could replace our medical officers with holograms and save funds. Dr Kedra is exceptional though. Jeskor said he even tried to re-animate casualties who had died seconds before treatment, but …” She managed to say, “I hope the Federation pays for each single loss we have sustained.”

“Iniki, it will, be sure of that; I was afraid of losing you.” Kovar said in a very low voice, “I was in the corridor near the transporter when you and your team arrived, heard you were seriously injured. In spite of your condition, you were demanding debriefing, felt responsible for what had gone wrong.”

“This is a part of the life we have chosen. At least we are on the same cruiser this time.” Melset leaned her head against his shoulder, enjoying his presence. “But after combat, there will always be the waiting, the incertitude. We are Cardassians, prepared to cope with all, but sometimes …”

“I plan to survive, especially now.” Kovar stated.

“What do you mean? Did your father get that posting for which he applied last year?”

“Yes, he did. The move to Bajor will be effected next month. He will establish a new colony in Dahkur Province, has already drawn up the plans and is negotiating for material and construction companies. Costs will be relatively low as Bajoran labour is cheap.”

“As long as those labourers do not take hours off to pray to the Prophets to please do their work for them,” was Melset’s comment.

“Their labour would be free. Imagine, they would need no food, no quarters, no clothing allowance, what an excellent deal! Perhaps we should submit this proposal and receive commendations for initiative and creativity?” They shared a moment of laughter.

“Now to matters that concern only us.” Kovar smiled at Melset as they went over to the window of the main room.

The woman was silent, knew what would follow. Their relationship had been gradually progressing to this point even though it had always been very discreet in accordance with Kelani norms which Kovar had willingly accepted.

“Before our exams at the Academy I notified my parents about my wish to join with you; they agreed after I told them what I know about you. When we next have downtime on Cardassia Prime, our engagement will be made official, then, once the Order has checked our respective backgrounds, we can join.” He added, “My parents have contacted yours, have already met them. Our families agree.”

“Devrin, that is good news! I expected they would have reservations about your joining with a Kelani as we have slightly different customs and values; you know the jokes.”

“And I especially remember how you fixed me up that time for making some of the more dubious ones in your presence. I’ll never laugh at a challenge from you again, Iniki, nor underestimate you.” He grinned, “The medic did looked surprised when we came into his office.” He pitched his voice higher, “’Medic Yattar, Var Kovar tripped over a container in the study room of his dormitory, then fell against the table, and I missed a step and measured my length.’ I do not think he believed you for even a moment.”

“We were not put on report, so he let it pass. You did ask for it though, remember, Devrin? ‘Squadron of fighters passes overhead, moving towards the south, and the Kelani farmer plants his fields because he thinks the migrations have started, then begins the harvest when they fly in the other direction some days later.’ That is the only one I care to repeat.”

“Well, you did warn me after the fourth one…” He said quietly, “Remember the simulation? My choice was made then.”

There was no reply, nor, after having known her for a longer time, did he expect any. He took her silence as agreement.

“My parents are very pleased, and have no problems with your ways, in fact they respect and value them.” Taking a small object out of a pocket, he said. “I have something for you. It is appropriate, given our parents’ accord and your recovery.”

“What is it?” She met his eyes, curious, then opened the box, “A data rod on Federation cultures and …” she called out disbelievingly after opening a small packet wrapped in sefrak, “An evlik bracelet! How in all of the Union did you get it? They are only made in Kelan Province; the jewellers produce them but on order, too! How did you learn about this custom? We hardly ever speak about our ways.”

Pleased at the success of his surprise, Kovar explained, fastening it around her right wrist, before she put the other around his. “Let’s say I have reliable sources, a Kelani friend whom I told my plans some time ago. It arrived with the latest group of reinforcements. One of them is an old friend we have in common. It did take some doing, though; he had a hard time convincing the artisan in Aigela City that he was not trivializing Kelani customs. The jeweller finally agreed when told that a Kelani was involved.”

He looked at Melset, recognized that she looked tired, “Come, let’s sit down and relax. I don’t want to leave just yet ...” He was silent for a moment. “The one time I managed to sneak in, I saw you, immobilized, sedated, your scales without any lustre and feared the worst; Medic Jeskor ordered me to leave, but assured me you would recover.”

“He’s one of the best medics I know; he has, as we would say, fayach.” When they sat down to exchange news Melset leaned against Kovar in a gesture of trust.

“Where did you get that rod?” She held it up, examining it.

“Liberated it in the battle two weeks ago. You are interested in alien cultures, their art and customs. I showed it to Gul Dukat who saw no reason not to give it to you as a present. He commented: ‘Her patriotism will not be weakened by such a small thing. She uses everything to her and our advantage and will share the information.’ You are lucky to have the Gul’s confidence.”

“This interest is slightly dangerous, as it can be misunderstood. Yet, it can be very useful; such knowledge has helped me more than once.” After a moment, she added. “Once we have joined, we will no longer be allowed to serve on the same ship.”

“Yes.” He briefly gazed out of the window. “It will be difficult, but when we join, we will be accorded three months of leave. What happens later, we shall see.”

“That question of ‘later on’ is easy enough for me to answer: I want a family as soon as possible. Four or five children. When the youngest is five, I will apply for reactivation, either planetside or on a cruiser. I can keep track of developments from home, and take courses, thus avoiding a hiatus.”

Kovar agreed, “Our family home in Locarian City has place for more than three generations; my father’s posting on Bajor is a ten-year tour. Goran and Saynor are still studying, but have already registered to settle on a colony world with their future mates. My older brother and I will remain on world. I could never leave Cardassia.”

“Nor could I.” She looked over at the hologram of Loo’Wess on the wall, then settled back again, content to be exactly where she was, with Kovar.

He fell silent as she relaxed against him in sleep. Getting to know you was literally an uphill battle, slowly eliminating layer after layer of defences, but it was worth it. I know I have made the right choice. At times it was so easy to forget the hazards of military life, and now, with the prospect of a family of his own, he was determined to spend as much time as possible with her.

Three days later, Melset was allowed to return to duty and met Glinn Jelad on the way to the bridge.

“Gul Dukat has you posted at weapons.”

Her reaction to the information was relief. _So the defeat has not discredited us after all_. In spite of Gul Dukat’s assurances, she had been apprehensive.

The bridge crew was as silent as always with everyone concentrating on his station or checking systems, realigning elements for more efficiency. Gul Dukat gave her a nod of welcome. “You know your station, Glinn Melset.”

“Yes, Gul Dukat.” The Glinn took over as though she had never been away.

The following two weeks were very quiet, unusually so; all they met was one small Federation shuttle poking around a minor system. Its commander had readily accepted the Cardassians’ invitation to depart, much to the bridge crew’s disappointment. Captives taken from shuttles were often quite good entertainment by Cardassian standards.

Towards the end of that day’s second shift, a message came in. “Fleet, Section D-84; Deploy to Argolis Sector.” Within moments, they were on their way. New assignments were always welcome as they meant a change of pace, new challenges.

After her shift had ended, Melset went into the canteen to join Glinn Kovar and Medic Jeskor at table. “Listen to this, Glinn Melset: there is a development with serious implications for Cardassian security. The Federation outpost near the border, only some light years away from the Colandra system, received a warning about the deployment of Cardassian forces: that warning came from deep within Cardassian space.”

“A traitor, or else an entire network,” was her reaction. “The leak has to be found and neutralized or Cardassia will risk an influx of Federation elements which will have us lose everything.”

Kovar added, “I wonder whether the Dissident Movement is truly willing to go so far as to commit treason? Open the Union to whoever wants to claim a piece of it?”

Jeskor shrugged, “Once someone turns traitor, he will sacrifice everything, everyone, to attain his goal, and in this case, Cardassia would be the sacrifice.” He added, “One of our neighbours was arrested and evidence found of his attempt to pass on information to a dissident. We never would have thought him capable of treason.”

Disquieted, the three finished their meal in silence and left, either for duty or for downtime. No one felt like discussing the news and its implications, it was that disturbing to even consider such deeds.

_It is best Tepek knows at once, if he does not already; the Order is always a step ahead of everyone else_… Melset went to Var Tepek’s quarters, spoke into the communit. “Glinn Melset reporting.”

He was already waiting, “Come in, Glinn Melset. I was expecting you.”

Tepek was indeed an Order operative; just before she had left for the Orissà, Tain had informed her. The Order took care of its own and of potential members by putting them into contact with other operatives to expand its network of informants.

“No doubt you have come because of the Colandra incident.”

“Yes. There are disquieting rumours which I suspect are more than rumours, though we still require evidence.” Melset recapitulated, “Leaks in the Fleet, on outposts, settlements … operatives have to find the guilty before even more damage is done. The population’s losing confidence in our structures must be prevented. Now that the situation has become common knowledge, there is growing anxiety in the rank and file.”

Tepek nodded. “And the first suspicions have been corroborated. The perpetrator must be assigned to this very fleet, in Gul Dukat’s division. The operatives on the Outpost who monitor all outgoing and incoming messages, especially private ones, have found nothing; even the static was clean. Just a moment, Glinn Melset.” Var Tepek pressed a button on his communicator. “You will appreciate this: my communicator is transmitting a conversation about the battle which landed you in Sickbay for nearly two weeks. This buys us time to exchange information on another subject.”

He sat down next to Melset, “I have contacted the operatives stationed on the ships in this division. They are evaluating communications and expanding the network of surveillance devices to cover all areas. While you were in sickbay, I installed supplementary units in various critical areas.” He went to his locker and took out a small pouch which Melset slipped into her uniform, then pressed the button on his communicator, waited for the all-clear on the monitor.

“It was kind of you to place these rods at my disposal, Glinn Melset. There were some codes that were unknown to me.”

“Any other files you need, you have but to ask. You did give me one series which proved invaluable. Without constant practice you lose your edge…“ She nodded at Tepek to indicate she knew exactly what the pouch contained, and left.

The next day the Fleet made sensor contact with a Starship in Cardassian space. For a moment, Gul Dukat looked around at the Glinns on the bridge, then made his choice. “Glinn Melset?”

She rose to stand next to her station, waiting, at attention.

“I plan to open negotiations with the captain of that Starship, but have decided on a change.” With that, he got up to take the place next to the centre seat.

Glinn Melset waited for orders until he said, “Glinn Melset, if you please,” and gestured at the place he had just vacated. “You will do so.”

It was a normal part of training; each Glinn was called upon to try his or her skills at negotiations, beginning with simpler situations and proceeding to complex, volatile negotiations.

She considered the situation. One Starship, non-military in spite of its configuration, which was that of a Galaxy-class ship, most likely a decommissioned cruiser sold to a mining consortium as surplus goods. Most likely it was manned by a Federation survey team with a former officer captaining it, a mixed bridge crew, was probably carrying a number of civilian specialists to initiate operations on arrival, and potential settlers to make laying a claim to a planet or system a foregone conclusion. “Status?”

Var Kadrai’s answer came at once. “Non-military, a survey ship according to sensor readings, scanning planet just within border.” His voice became sibilant with irritation when he added, “That planet is one of those slated for colonisation within a year.”

Melset exchanged glances with Gul Dukat, then made some subtle changes to the hair at her temples; as that of some Kelani, her hair had slight reddish highlights and tended to curl. That done, she took the helmet from under the seat, put it on. Gul Dukat followed suit as did the others.

“Var Kadrai, reduce lighting by 15%, shift towards red by 7%.”

“In visual range,” was Var Gaffal’s report.

“Open hailing frequencies, visual.”

“Federation Starship, you are violating Cardassian space in direct contravention of the terms stipulated by the Union. You are invited to withdraw or prepare to engage.” Gul Dukat noticed Glinn Melset’s voice was slightly higher in pitch than usual, without the sibilant undertone, her stance more like that of a civilian.  
The bridge crew remained silent, all of them staring at the screen, expressions cold, unmoved.

The screen cleared after some moments to show the other bridge. As expected, the captain was obviously a former Starfleet officer who had made a second career of piloting for mining companies or accompanying survey missions into hazardous areas of space. He gazed out at Glinn Melset from the screen before stating, “Captain Hoffmann here. This system is two light years within Federation Space, nowhere near Cardassian territory. We will not withdraw.” His tone of voice and phrasing were contemptuous; seemingly he associated the Cardassian female’s aspect with a marked lack of experience and a good deal of insecurity, especially as she repeatedly, covertly, looked over at the officer next to her.

“Ah, but you have no other option, you know,” At that moment, Gul Dukat noticed Var Kadrai glance at Melset’s hands, rapidly input a message to transmit it to the other ships in the division. He saw the orders scroll down his screen. Disperse, keep out of immediate sensor range and await further orders. “We have claimed this system and have a settlement in the planning stages ….”

  
The captain interrupted her, “But there is none as yet, not one incipient mine or foundations of buildings. Your claim is unsubstantiated.” As soon as he closed communications, Melset gave the order to advance within weapons range and power up phasers.

Again the screen cleared. “I repeat: We will not withdraw. Your trumped-up claim is only an attempt at a show of power without the backing to follow up your threat. Your one cruiser is not all that impressive.” Looking at Melset amusedly, he stated, “Tell me, have you by any chance lost the rest of your division someplace? Or have you even become lost yourself? There should be more than one ship, come to think of it.” The next comment was an insult. “Perhaps you should complete what you call Military training before presuming to give orders, then come back again to try and impress us.” Dismissively turning his back to the screen, he ordered, “Standard orbit. Prepare to engage sensors.”

This time, Melset’s voice and manner were harsh, aggressive when she stated, “Starship Captain Hoffmann, you have received ample warning. You will depart at once or face the consequences and responsibility for all procedures effected as to your crew and yourself personally. I presume you would dislike seeing them face their end like true members of the Federation.” She struck a section of the communications array on the armrest, then settled back, smiling.

Within moments, the other cruisers had joined them, but as yet were out of sensor range. Melset slouched ever so slightly in her seat, now arrogant, overbearing, neck membranes fully tensed before she stated, “As you can see, my dear Captain Hoffmann, I have the firepower to encourage you on your way and have brought along some friends who will give you added impetus. Use your sensors, provided you are capable of operating them, to find my friends. I have!” Her voice had become playful, at least by Cardassian standards, “Now, what shall it be? I give you a choice: Immediate withdrawal or a battle you cannot win.”

Next to her, Gul Dukat stared at the screen, not observing Melset even peripherally. I was warned…

This time Var Gaffal quickly looked over and fired a volley that narrowly missed the other ship.

“It should be a most interesting experience to be the focal point of a phaser barrage, a splendid pyrotechnical display, actually, but I shall spare you this specific sample of our highly-developed sense of aesthetics, provided you finally come to your senses.” The sneer in her voice was very pronounced as was the contempt in her attitude.

On the other ship, the captain quickly deliberated with his navigator who stated, “No Federation or Cardassian ships within the immediate area.”

Captain Hoffmann was about to speak again, but at glancing at Navigator Schmidt’s sensor display seconds after the report, he exclaimed, “What the …? How many of them are there anyway? Where did they come from?”

His navigator replied, “Six in all, sir. The one in front with that Cardassian female in command, five others just within sensor range, weapons fully charged, ready to come in firing. With all due respect, sir, we do not stand a chance against that lot.”

“Those damn spoonhead bastards! I would like to get my hands on that female. That reptile was playing cat-and-mouse with us.” He looked up at the screen and saw her look at them in turn, waiting, ready to give the order to engage.

“Register this planet with all details. We will be back, with the personnel and military support we need.” He turned to communications. “We withdraw.”

The solicitude in her voice was coloured by a hint of mockery, the sibilant undertone very marked. “You are free to do so. We will be generous in the interest of furthering amicable Cardassian-Federation relations and escort you to the border to make sure you do not meet with any unfortunate incidents. This is a most dangerous area of Cardassian territory, Captain Hoffmann. Too many,” Her expression was one of horrified warning, “… far too many spoonhead bastards around. You cannot be too careful, you know. And their females … best not to think of what those snakes are capable. Those bloody Cardis cannot be trusted.”

Communications were abruptly closed.

The escort detail as she chose to call it, was uneventful and, with a parting shot for good measure, the starship was left to withdraw. Melset turned to Gul Dukat, “If I may presume to make a suggestion, Gul Dukat?”

“By all means, Glinn Melset.”

“This world possesses valuable resources, so it would be best to contact Central Command, section Civilian Deployment, to request approximately 6000 individuals to be transferred here as soon as feasible; the official schedule has to be disregarded in this case. They should be accompanied by a contingent of more than the usual 900 troops, I would suggest roughly 1200, under the command of two Guls. Prior to departure I heard that some were waiting for postings and pushing temporary duty on outposts. Mining equipment is stored on Outpost 36; it could be sent here within five days at most. Admittedly, this will be a short-term strain on available resources, but worth the effort. We do need these planets.”

“Report to my ready room after your shift.” He was watching her very carefully, trying to analyse her with a marked lack of success.

All too conscious of his scrutiny, Melset retook her station, leaving Var Gaffal free to return to his monitoring array. There was a quick exchange between the two, a brief hiss of amusement, then the usual silence.

********

“I was wondering about your performance while negotiating with that human, the shift in lighting you requested, your rearranging your hair. Rather unusual preparations for negotiations, don’t you think?” He put his head to the side, a gesture Melset found strangely disarming.

“Gul Dukat, the shift in lighting was a response to the human phrase of our having crawled out from under a rock, that is, a warm, moist dark place inhabited by unsavoury creatures only a Ferengi could appreciate. Our helmets, though revealing, provoke unease, perhaps because they stress our features. As to my manner and hairstyle, see me as a stranger would, Gul Dukat. I am Kelani, slightly smaller than the average Cardassian female; next to you and the others I appear inoffensive. This…” She smoothed her hair back into sleek regulation style, “…added to the impression as did the pitch of my voice. These minor details made him underestimate me, made him overconfident, less observant, thus the ease with which our ships could surround him. That method cannot be used too often, as Federation personnel share information to the same extent we do.”

He was smiling amusedly, “I would not have recognized you as the Glinn I know; your insecure Cardassian officer on her very first command was outrageous.” He asked, “Those two Vars glanced at you, you said nothing, yet once a message was transmitted, later an order to fire a phaser volley relayed to weapons. Explain.”

“Verbal communications can be overheard, much as we overheard the conversation on that starship, permitting the enemy to launch a pre-emptive strike. Together with my troops I devised a system of gestures, some of which express an entire sentence. Communication is faster, nothing is overheard, the enemy taken by surprise.” Melset added, “Gul Dukat, it is your prerogative… Should you consider this method an element that would compromise security, I will give it up.”

“No, Glinn Melset, it is effective. But I would appreciate being able to understand what you are ‘saying’. Your decisions took me and therest of the crew by surprise. This alone proves its value.” He rose and, with a nod, said, “This will make a good entry in your file. Tell me: did the Order teach you this method?”

_It would be unwise to tell him the truth._ “No, Gul Dukat, I devised it with my comrades when I was a Var on Gul Previn’s ship, we found it invaluable when we were taken captive, so I have also taught it to my troops here. We agreed it can be useful in combat.” She briefly hesitated, “Report 237-F – OTK for details.”

“I shall avail myself of your offer.” was the reply. “Glinn Melset, I think your downtime begins in an hour? There will be no calls. It is yours to enjoy.”

He considered her, slightly suspicious, yet with growing respect: everything she did was done for Cardassia. For all her sense of duty, she enjoyed such actions, made a game of planning, deception and obfuscation. _Tain and Garak were among her instructors; I have managed to find that out in the meantime,_ he thought resentfully, _yet she is nothing like them. Of course, appearances can be deceiving_… He thought of the Federation Captain who had been taken in by the ‘inexperienced Gul’, as if Central Command would ever allow a person of such marked incompetence onto the bridge of a cruiser, let alone admit this individual into the Military Academy.

Melset submitted to his evaluating gaze, showed neither impatience nor irritation, fully understanding what was going through his mind.

“Glinn Melset, as to your proposal, I will stress the urgency of the procedures you suggested. We can deploy troops to prepare housing and first elements of infrastructure within a week at most. Outpost 39 is closest and has manpower stationed there for such a development. “You are dismissed.” _And I have yet another entry for your file_…

Just before leaving, Melset turned to say, “Gul Dukat, we may have critical information for you within a few more days.” Saluting, she called “Talsvar Kardassu!” then, unhurriedly, went to her quarters.

During the next months, she pushed some of her men forward, meeting with them, cooperating intensively, furthering them with all means at her disposal, requesting authorization to offer courses in Order techniques and strategies. Some of her fellow Glinns joined as well. That, too created networks of favours owed, an invaluable resource that gave access to often scarce goods, critical information, even assistance. Interdependence was the key to success and security…

Dukat observed this with interest, as he did the actions of all his higher-ranking subordinates. He estimated Glinn Melset to be ambitious, with an insatiable desire for information. She had, as far as he knew, a remarkably extensive, constantly growing network of contacts within Central Command and the Order. Usually Var Tepek was included in the courses, taking over some details. In addition she unfailingly gave recordings to Gul Dukat, Glinns Chedrol and Terpak to ensure security and proper surveillance.

It was only a week after they had been deployed to yet another sector that a smaller cruiser intercepted the Orissà; its Captain contacted Gul Dukat. Without any formalities, he stated, “There is a matter to be resolved without delay. Colonel Rajin and Corporal Mardal will beam over at once.”

Two Cardassians in civilian clothing came onto the bridge uninvited, accompanied by Var Tepek.

Irritated at the intrusion, Gul Dukat rose, turned to them and demanded, “May I inquire why you are on the bridge? This area is off-limits to non military personnel.”

Unimpressed, the higher-ranking officer explained, “I am Colonel Rajin of the Obsidian Order. I regret the intrusion, as you choose to phrase it, Gul Dukat, but we have traced the source of the security breach. The traitor is on your bridge at this very moment and is to be arrested.”

There was a silence that was unlike the usual one: it was the silence of tense waiting; the bridge crew avoided the slightest disturbance; everyone was holding his breath apprehensively.

“Proceed. I do not want that … on my bridge or cruiser.” Gul Dukat’s voice was filled with loathing and anger. The leak had cost his division nearly two hundred troops and hundreds of injured.

No one reacted when the senior agent who had come with Tepek went directly to Glinn Melset’s station; he took her by the shoulder, pulled her around to face him, and backhanded her with all his strength, nearly throwing the Glinn off the seat. Startled, she raised a hand to her cheek, showed no expression at hearing what Colonel Rajin said.  
“You thought no one would recognize your duplicity, my much respected ‘true Cardassian’. The informational leak has been traced to this ship, more precisely, to your quarters. Your sentence has already been pronounced: public execution in Loo’Wess. The trial is scheduled to start when we arrive on Cardassia Prime. You have been dishonourably discharged from Central Command, your family has disassociated itself from you. Your young brother’s reaction should prove gratifying. I quote, ‘This traitor is not my sister anymore. Enemies of Cardassia stand alone.’”

_How can this be?_ Melset was as expressionless as the operatives who had come for her even though her pulse was febrile with reaction. She automatically rose, held out her wrists to be manacled before she was led off the bridge at phaser point, Tepek and Mardal at her sides, Colonel Rajin following. She walked out calmly, confidently, as if unmoved. Melset however was in shock, frantically reviewing the past months. She had installed additional surveillance devices, processed recordings together with Var Tepek, had copied and sent them to the operatives involved in the search. What had brought her under suspicion? There was nothing, absolutely nothing which could explain what was happening.

“You will remain here, under guard.” With a gesture of contempt, Rajin gestured at her to enter the brig; when she went past him, he gave her a heavy blow that nearly floored her. Physical violence was a normal routine in Cardassian treatment of prisoners or criminals; it demonstrated their loss of status as Cardassian citizens. It was this rather than anything else that made her understand that this was no nightmare but reality. An inconceivable reality she had never expected to face.

She was left to herself for days; a guard periodically checked to ensure that she was not attempting to commit suicide as many officers did in that situation. He stated, “An attempt at suicide will see you sedated and immobilized until you are transferred to the Obsidian Order. You will not escape justice.”

“To try to escape justice would be an act of cowardice and prove my guilt beyond a doubt. I want the truth to be found.”

She got her rations once a day from that same guard, but he did not address her, nor did she attempt to speak to him even though she knew him well as he was a member of Glinn Kovar’s team. For all purposes she was a non-person.

After a week, she heard the intercom, “Entering standard orbit of Cardassia Prime.”

Little later, Var Tepek and Corporal Mardal, again accompanied by Rajin came to transfer her to Order Headquarters. “We will go by Order Shuttle.”

Melset rose in silence, followed them out. On their way, they met various personnel, none of whom dignified the group with even a glance; it was as though they had never seen Melset or Tepek before. She caught sight of Dukat as he left his quarters. Her erstwhile superior glared at her, his eyes cold, contemptuous. “You traitor. It was you who cost us the lives of those men, of your highly-esteemed recruit Varko; and you presumed to speak about the glory of Cardassia, your love for the Union. All of this lies to conceal treason. Your trial and execution will be transmitted throughout the Union and on this cruiser.” With that, he turned away and strode off. Numbed, Melset stared after him until Colonel Rajin shoved her. “Move. No one will help you, traitor, and certainly not Gul Dukat.”

Transferral took only minutes; once they had arrived, she was taken to the interrogation area of the subterranean complex. It was the usual routine. Guards took her into a darkened room where blinding lights were shone directly into her eyes.

“Remove your clothes,” directed an Order operative who sat in the shadows.

She complied at once, then put on the prisoner’s overall which a guard threw at her contemptuously. Only at execution or during the trial were the accused permitted normal clothing.

The guard led her into the cell, then stood outside, but did not activate the screen. Melset waited, expecting the interrogation to begin at once. It will be thorough: a traitorous officer is a serious affair … At least I will know what has happened.

Rajin waved away the guard when he entered. “Glinn Melset, Tain has been notified, and has requested we assemble all evidence we have thanks to you: recordings from surveillance devices, your transponder. There are serious doubts as to the evidence that has led to your sentence which may be re-examined. The procedure would be unusual, but not unheard-of.” He hesitated. “Do you know a Glinn Nerral?”

“Yes, he attended two of the six-week courses Var Tepek and I gave on the Orissà and was one of the best.” What did this question have to do with her situation? Why did Colonel Rajin address her by name? Normally, a suspect was only addressed by the designation of his crime. There seemingly was more to this. Yet, it was also a time-honoured method of undermining a prisoner’s resistance; she had successfully done this herself more than once.

“There is far more to him than any of us would have expected. His grandfather was interrogated by a certain Delhina Melset twenty years ago, found guilty and sentenced to hard labour for a period of fifteen years. He did not survive.”

Melset gripped the edge of the bunk so tightly that the scales on her knuckles became nearly translucent. She whispered. “He _was_ very interested in voice modification, programming of listening devices, clandestine data transferral.” A wave of nausea left her trembling, “But how can such occurrences be avoided?”…

In a gesture unusual for an Order member, Colonel Rajin went over to her, clasped her arm. “By checking backgrounds. You will be spending some days here until everything has been resolved. Your arrest and disappearance are necessary to ensure the success of our mission.”

She nodded, then said in a low voice, ignoring what Rajin had just told her, not trusting his words or placing confidence in his kind gesture, “I know all traitors say this, but I have never acted against the interests of Cardassia and her people, I took courses with the Order to better protect her.” When she looked up again, he had left. _If the truth is brought to light, and I am proven innocent, I will be freed; if the truth turns out to be my guilt, I will face the consequences as is my duty._

Hours later, the guard brought her rations, placed them on the floor, inside her cell. Melset stayed where she was, looked at them, hungry, yet nauseated at the very idea of eating. The guard watched her for a while, then told her, “I warn you, traitor: if you refuse to eat, you will be kept alive by force. Cardassia will not be deprived of witnessing your trial and execution.”

She did not protest the allegations or acknowledge the threat, only shook her head, whispering to herself, “No, never a traitor to Cardassia, never that…” With an effort, she forced down the rations. When the lights were dimmed for the night, she lay down face to the wall, and fell asleep, exhausted.

The next days were no different; constant observation, insults, threats, no contact with anyone but Order guards and, only once, an interrogator who briefly stood at the entrance to her cell, looking at her evaluatingly while she met his eyes directly, with no indication of fear, then left again. Only Tepek came by nearly each day, together with Rajin who asked various questions, spoke to her in Cardassi Standard, Federation Standard, Bajoran, even in Kelani Cardassian, recording her responses. _Why am I not being interrogated? That would be standard procedure._ It was a prospect everyone considered with dread as Cardassian interrogations were horrific by anyone’s standards, leaving the victim with no dignity, no pride, no right to personal integrity, be it mental or physical. Yet, if it kept Cardassia safe, the choice was obvious. No interrogations were conducted in the open area, either; this procedure was considered essential to demonstrate to prisoners what would happen to them in good time: Tain had described this as the easiest way of undermining a prisoner’s resistance, to abbreviate a process which could be quite lengthy at times, all depending on the prisoner’s stubbornness and determination.

Roughly a month after the accusation, she heard a familiar voice, “Ah, my dear Glinn Melset! I am pleased to see you, but not in these circumstances!”

Startled, she rose and went to the forcefield to see Tain himself. _Then it is more serious than I expected if he is to be my interrogator._ “I am prepared, Enabran Tain, and take responsibility for what has been done should you find me guilty. May it be a warning to others and comfort to those who have suffered the results of my treason.”

He shook his head, “You do not understand, Iníki, do you. We have found the person responsible for the transmissions. After your alleged arrest for treason, we intensified Order presence in Gul Dukat’s division, added more surveillance devices, and finally found our treacherous friend. Var Tepek and Colonel Rajin compared the voice recordings with those they made of your statements in this cell: the recordings presented as evidence were manipulations, it was your voice, but the sounds recomposed to give the impression that it was you who was passing on the information. A most clever ploy, don’t you think?” He was smiling in amusement, knowing that, in spite of her situation, Melset could fully appreciate the irony. “Just imagine! Turning Order methods against an Order-educated officer!”

Melset only whispered, “Tain, what happened? I was unable to find any reasons for my arrest.”

“Listen carefully, Glinn Melset. You never even came close to that area from which the transmissions allegedly took place; that fact was established thanks to the multifunction transponder which you so persistently demanded at the beginning of your career. It was a wise precaution indeed. Finally, you gave your commanding officer, Glinn Chedrol and Var Tepek all recordings, even those of surveillance devices you had personally installed, another excellent decision.” Tain briefly smiled, remembering. ”Gul Dukat was rather surprised when he saw us removing those specific ones for detailed analyses. The perpetrator confessed willingly enough when we arrested him some hours ago.”

Moments later, Tain burst out laughing: “My dear Glinn Melset, you will meet Nerral soon. This story was made up to keep you from discovering the truth, keep you wondering about what you had done wrong, and, as to Nerral, reconsidering what had happened to avoid repeat performances.” He added, “Remember: at times a fake background can be very helpful.”

“But the leak, Tain? There must have been more than one individual involved. The process is far too complex and hazardous to effect alone.” Melset did not resent how she had been used, only was concerned about the Union’s safety. “If even one of those traitors escapes, he can recruit others.”

“Indeed. We have found them: fifteen on various ships and outposts. Be assured their fate is sealed. As to yours,” he deactivated the screen, went in to sit next to her on the bunk, half-turned to her. “You, my dear Iníki, are free to return to the Orissà. Your duties are waiting, and you, no doubt, are impatient to retake your post. The Orissà is in standard orbit, preparing to transport troops and settlers to that planet you took in charge, and will take on new personnel at returning within five days.”

“Gul Dukat said he wanted me off his ship,” she said, not quite believing Tain’s words. “Even if he can be convinced to reinstate me, Tain, my career will be over: an officer who has been a suspect once remains under permanent suspicion. In effect, this person’s career is over.” Melset repeated, “My career is over.”

“Your superior officer knows it was part of our plan to give the traitors the feeling they were safe; we had the best decoy imaginable: you, an Order-trained Glinn 3rd level. With you out of the way those active on the Orissà thought they could operate just a little more freely. Even Var Tepek let himself be recruited. Now who would have expected such a thing from him?” He again smiled broadly, “It would seem you have made quite an impression on Gul Dukat. He was outraged at the Order’s using personnel, even though he did agree that the end justifies the means. However, he may be rather suspicious because you installed those supplementary devices.”

“And rightly so. His concern is the security of his personnel, his cruiser and our duty to Cardassia. Any act of treason on one ship weakens the entire unit.” She looked up at him, hiding her joy at knowing her honour as an officer was untouched.

“You do enjoy this game of taking everything at face value, don’t you?” He rose, gestured at her to follow him, “Unfortunately, I cannot offer you any downtime to compensate for this most unpleasant experience, but being proven innocent and the fact that the traitors will face justice is reward enough. The details of this affair must of course remain our secret. And Nerral is innocent of any wrong-doing; he will be rewarded for his cooperation.”

Melset fell into step at his side, she felt no resentment, no anger at having been used. Much to the contrary, her faith in Cardassian justice was confirmed and she parted from Tain with sincere affection.

After two months, she could finally return to the Orissà; Entek was to escort her there as he had a mission on Soukhara. His duty was to restructure the branch of the Order on that planet. During transit, he spent most of the time in the lounge together with Melset, concentrating on various details, addressing methodology, intensive surveillance, all this disguised as plans for settling on a colony planet. Outside of the Cardassian enclave established there, the environment of that planet presented a challenge. The planet was densely vegetated, its lush jungle offered concealment for dissidents.

The personnel of the cruiser watched the couple suspiciously, but covertly; Melset and Entek interacted like any other Cardassian couple, showing a sense of togetherness, at times exchanging covert glances, a slight smile. Only once did a young Cardassian woman, a Glinn 1st level, address them.

“Yasidok Pares, Jevarra Monar, I found this in the corridor just outside your quarters.” She held out a small container with a set of data rods.

“Thank you, Glinn. This is indeed inexcusable. I shall mention your attentiveness to your superior. You have saved me from some annoyances.”

Thus dismissed, she left. The two went over the details once more, then Entek suggested, “Let’s return to quarters, Jevarra. We are scheduled to arrive tomorrow.”

Once in their quarters, Entek explained, “Terok’Nor is to become an iridium-refining plant. The requisite facilities have been installed, operations to begin within a month; labourers are already being recruited. You may remember that this station is in orbit around Bajor. Its prefect will be promoted to Legate and transfer to the main planet of the Olmerak System. His replacement has already been selected which means the Orissà will need a new commander.”

Melset knew personnel turnover was high at the upper echelons of command and said pensively, “Gul Dukat will be difficult to replace. His abilities in troop leadership and warfare as well as negotiation are remarkable, if I may presume to say as much.”

“Indeed.” Entek continued, “He will submit his proposals for promotion in a week, the change of command is to be the day before his departure: 70 members of his present staff will transfer to Terok’Nor; he and the Guls of his fleet will suggest a Glinn to take command after promotion. The choice should be most interesting.”

Melset agreed. “The Orissà has a number of Glinns who merit early promotion: for example Glinn Terpak, Glinn Chedrol or Glinn Shelan. They are excellent officers, have the respect of their troops.” The praise was honest; after but two years of service as Glinn 3rd level, Melset did not think of promotion, only hoped to be among those chosen to accompany Gul Dukat to Terok’Nor. Outpost duty was hazardous, but meant new challenges, seeing further aspects of service to the Union.

The next day they were cleared to beam over to the Orissà. Entek directed Melset be beamed into her quarters, he into the ready room. Gul Dukat, notified by the commander of the cruiser, marched in, concealing his annoyance at this renewed intrusion by the Order.

“Commander Entek. I trust your arrival is connected with a matter of some importance?” His intonation and phrasing were barely civil.

“Yes, Gul Dukat. It concerns Glinn Iníki Melset.” Entek raised a hand when Dukat wanted to speak. “She is in her quarters.” He spoke into his communicator. “Glinn Melset? Report to the ready room.”

“On my way, Commander Entek.”

Gul Dukat’s eyes narrowed, glittering with suspicion when he heard her voice. “What is this? I clearly stated I refuse to have a former suspect on my ship!”

“I take it you are surprised about this development.”

“Indeed, but the Order, or to quote a certain Glinn, the second pillar of Cardassia never fails to have surprises in store,” was his reply which came very close to a sneer. Normally he would have had any intruder taken to the brig, processed, then left at the next outpost, but in his opinion, Order members were long-term hazards.

Glinn Melset entered, stood at attention and saluted, “Reporting for duty.”

Gul Dukat responded, but as curtly as he could without being insulting. So, an Order operative after all…

“An explanation is in order,” Entek said, “You will recall the informational leaks in this fleet. Var Tepek and Glinn Melset had narrowed down the list of suspects to twenty-five, but required final evidence, thus notified Tain. We traced and arrested a traitor of our own making to give the real ones a feeling of false security, believing that they were no longer in the focus of observation. This one,” he nodded at Melset, “was a decoy. She was never, and I underline the word, never a suspect. I say this as a Cardassian and as a member of the Obsidian Order. As she had studied with us for a year, we knew that, even if she had found out the truth before she was meant to, she would have kept up appearances. This amply demonstrates she can be relied on to serve with true dedication and is prepared to make any sacrifice to further the Union.” Entek added, “Glinn Melset is not Order; but is one of the very few with the foresight to consider our methods essential for the demands of her career.”

Gul Dukat inclined his head, remembering his conversations with Melset. _No more suspicion, so, back to normalcy._ “Glinn Terpak, Report to ready room.”

Terpak came in at once, and saluted those present.

“Enter Glinn Melset in the duty roster as of second shift tomorrow,” Gul Dukat commanded. “All suspicions have been revealed as a ploy to discredit her.”

Terpak nodded, and at passing Melset, whispered, “Positive news,” to which she reacted with a slight smile, thinking he meant the fact she was cleared of all suspicion.

There were no questions, no comments when she retook her station. Those freed by the Order were officially considered innocent; Entek’s accompanying Melset was proof that she had the Order’s support.Three weeks later, Gul Dukat received a message that he read with growing resentment. “Gul Dukat of the Second Order, you have proposed Glinns Terpak and Shelan for promotion to Gul. For obvious reasons, it would be a wise decision to instead select Glinn Melset as a candidate for one of said promotions. The officer in charge of selective procedures has, at our advice, taken the appropriate steps. If you so wish, you are invited to register a protest; I assure you it will be given the consideration it deserves. Commander Orid Kalem out.”

For some time, Gul Dukat sat in front of the screen, outraged at the Order’s intervention. The other two officers had seniority over Melset, were highly experienced. He recognized her potential, but two years were not enough to gain the necessary experience for command, nor had she, as far as he knew, even expected this development. _The Order does look out for its own…_ The old suspicion resurfaced.

“Then Shelan and Terpak will accompany me to Terok’Nor. In another six months they will be rewarded for their work,” Gul Dukat said to himself as he rose to leave for the bridge, where he repeatedly watched Glinn Melset as she tracked developments along the sector they were patrolling.

****************

It was but six weeks later that Gul Dukat ordered his Glinns and two each of their troops to report to the ready room. When they filed in, they looked around; evidently they were to witness an important event. Banners with the Cardassian emblem and that of the Second Order hung on the walls. Once all officers had taken their places according to rank, Gul Dukat entered, accompanied by his adjutant, Glinn Terpak.

The Gul went to a lectern, raised a hand for attention and said, “This is a glorious time for Cardassia. Thanks to resources we have secured for the Union, Central Command has initiated a massive expansion of our fleet; within the next two years, Glinns who have proven themselves worthy will be promoted. The Orissà has been chosen to be first in this phase of renewal.

You are to witness a Change of Command. Central Command has entrusted me with the administration of Terok’Nor, development of the ore extraction and -processing facilities on Bajor, a project to be effected parallel to preparing the planet for full-scale colonization. Making Bajor’s rich and invaluable resources accessible to the Union will further Cardassia’s goal to claim her rightful place in the Quadrant.

Central Command’s top echelons have evaluated the files of all eligible Glinns and notified me of their decision.” He turned to Glinn Terpak who activated the padd before handing it to him with a gesture of respect.

“Central Command has designated the following Glinn 3rd level to be promoted to Gul 9th level. Due to the expansion of the fleet, this officer will be granted immediate command of a cruiser, the Orissà.” He faced his staff.

“Glinn Melset, after consideration of all factors such as your performance ratings by the commanders under whom you served in the past nine years, your results in external and internal examinations, both Central Command’s and the Order’s, past and recent actions in combat, preparedness to serve in all capacities, your readiness to make the ultimate sacrifice for Cardassia, it is my honour to inform you of your promotion to Gul 9th level. After this mission, you will report to Central Command for a phase of exams to confirm your position; I have no doubt that you will succeed.”

Taken unawares by what she had just heard, Glinn Melset did not move. _This is impossible! Glinn Terpak had seniority, as did Glinns Chedrol and Shelan …._ She finally rose and went forward to salute Gul Dukat.

At the same time, Glinn Shelan advanced, carrying the armour of a Gul 9th level, the insignia edged in silvery-gold. Melset removed the armour she was wearing with the words, “I accept the responsibility of command.”

Shelan helped her put on the armour and whispered so that only she could hear, “Not long to wait for this uniform after all, Gul,” referring to the joking discussion he had had with Medic Jeskor some months before. She nodded, remembering.

She turned to face Gul Dukat. “I am prepared.”

“Then, Gul Melset, take the Pledge to Cardassia and never forget it for as long as there is a Union and you are alive to serve.”

She pronounced the words which to her and all the others in the service, embodied all they valued and in which they unwaveringly believed.

When she had finished, he presented her with the insignia of command. “With the acceptance of this insignia, you take command of the Orissà. Command her with dedication and pride.”

“It shall always serve to remind me of my, our, duty to Cardassia. She is our life, our future, our very existence. Whoever would endanger her integrity both from within her borders and outside of them is to be crushed, all traitors brought to justice; this until and beyond the day when we take our destined place in the Quadrant to the greater glory of Cardassia!” Impulsively, she turned to the witnesses, saluted and called out with fervour, “Talsvar Kardassu – for all time!”

The witnesses, including Gul Dukat, responded in like.

With that brief formality, Change of Command was effected. In an hour, Melset and Dukat would meet in his ready room to discuss shifts in personnel as he would be accompanied by 78 staff to fill positions on Terok’Nor, a station which had come close to being abandoned. He would bring it back to life, make it an essential part of Cardassia’s future: Her on new personnel was waiting there to be taken on board.

From across the room, she met Glinn Kovar’s eyes, saw his pleasure in her success, but also disappointment. _Our commitment and joining have to be deferred until your own promotion. We are bound to the rules governing interaction between the ranks._

Kovar saluted her from across the room and followed the others out. Their contact would now be on an official basis only, their relationship on hold.

Terok’Nor came into visual range, a fragile-looking, strangely beautiful structure orbiting Bajor, a lush, green planet scheduled for full-scale colonization within a matter of years. Some few Cardassian enclaves had already been established, but were under constant threat by the résistance that had formed twenty years ago when the Bajorans had recognized the occupying forces’ goal. Suppressing this resistance that was gaining in impetus and organizing cells all over Bajor would be Gul Dukat’s duty. Already, Cardassians could not risk leaving an enclave unescorted, and at night, security forces guarded the perimeters. Yet again and again these very enclaves were hit by devastating attacks that claimed many lives. Gul Dukat was expected and determined to put an end to this terrorism by all means necessary.

In a gesture that surprised Gul Dukat, she followed him and his officers to the transporter bay. He stopped to address her. “Gul Melset?”

“Gul Dukat, your actions and your leadership have shown me what must be considered when in command. It was a privilege serving under you.” She met his eyes, then looked down. Her hands indicated gratitude.

He responded with a nod and smile of his own in acknowledgement of her words and the gesture, “You will be successful, Gul Melset. I suggested you because I recognized your abilities.” He nodded at the two Glinns accompanying him to move on, then said in a low voice, “I have put Glinn Kovar’s name forward as this fleet will be expanded in two years. You should not have long to wait.” He saluted and beamed down to begin a new phase of his career.

The Division Commander, Gul Jasad, contacted her immediately after Gul Dukat’s departure. “Proceed to Algira Sector, Unefra Prime.”

Taking the centre seat, she looked at her bridge crew, “Engage. Course for Algira Sector.” New missions for all of us – in the name of Cardassia.


End file.
